


Fly Away

by kathierif_fic



Series: Fly Away [1]
Category: CSI: NY
Genre: AU, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 00:49:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathierif_fic/pseuds/kathierif_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Danny and Stella try to solve a murder, Mac, Lindsay and Sheldon meet Tanglewood again...and then something happens that turns their personal lives upside down...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in 2006, so it has spoilers for the first and second season of CSINY, particularly "Run Silent, Run Deep".

He stood on the edge of the roof. The cold wind ripped at him and caused shivers to run over his whole body. It pulled at his clothes, his hair, and his smile, and when he looked down at the cars on the streets, he couldn’t help but laugh. He was too far up to see the people, only the occasional dot, and they certainly didn’t see him.

His muscles quivered in nervous anticipation, and his grin got only wider. Here he was, and he knew exactly what he wanted, and nobody would stop him.

Nobody could stop him. He was all alone up here. And nobody would expect him here.

For a brief moment, he wished that it was night, but then he shrugged and rolled up his right sleeve. Goosebumps broke out over his skin almost immediately. Around his wrist, the dull gleam of the worn metal of his bracelet caught his eye. He had worn it for so long now, it felt strange to remove it. It felt like a part of his body.

He laughed at his own thoughts and pulled it off – imprinted in the cheap metal was not only his number, but also his full name – Donald Flack, Jr. – and it felt liberating to hold the warm metal in his closed fist for a moment, keeping it warm, keeping it alive, before holding out his hand and opening it, finger for finger, until it fell, fell down, quickly disappearing from his sight. He imagined it meeting the pavement, breaking in a million little pieces, untraceable little pieces that nobody would be able to use anymore, or even put together, not even the CSIs. A jigsaw puzzle nobody could solve.

He didn’t care.

He wouldn’t need it any longer. He was free.

Don felt the wind pull at his grin as he stepped right on the edge of the building, stretched out his arms, and let himself fall.

He was flying.

His muscles worked, he knew they did, and he laughed at the feeling of wind rushing in his face. The wind stole his voice, his breath, and he could see the building race along him – the little dots under him had quickly grown into heads, into people, and he stretched his arms out towards them, when suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.

He cried out, but the sound disappeared just as quickly as his laughter. Nobody heard him, nobody saw him.

He fell, spiraling towards the ground, and nothing and nobody would be able to save him from the collision with the hard and unforgiving ground.

The next thing he felt was the impact of something hard, a pole or the edge of the building, anything, with his shin, shattering the bones, ripping muscles and skin, sending hot spikes of pain through his body. Together with the pain in his back, he felt like burning from the inside. He had the sudden mental image of a phoenix, burning on the way to the ground, only to be reborn.

He wouldn’t be reborn, he realized with a sudden feeling of dread. He would be dead, shattered on the pavement like the bracelet, his life and identity extinguished.

That was his last coherent thought. The ground came up to him at an impossibly high speed. He was close enough for the people to notice him, and he could recognize faces now, eyes wide and mouths opened in shock and silent screams, pale faces, a child pulled protectively in the embrace of its mother, its head turned towards her stomach by her hands, to prevent it witnessing his death.

And then everything turned black.


	2. Chapter 2

Don blinked. His shin throbbed in pain, and he couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down his back. The memory of the fall was still fresh in his mind, although it had already started to fade. He was relieved about that. It wasn’t the first time he had dreamed about letting himself fall off the highest building he could find, just to feel the wind in his face again.

Sweat dried on his body, and he sighed softly into his pillow.

Before he could even sit up, he heard the soft groan of pain from someone else, and something collided with his shin again. A foot.

Danny’s foot.

He bit back a curse and tried to roll over and move away from the source of his own pain, only to be stopped by the back of the couch.

They must have fallen asleep during the game, he thought sleepily and lifted a hand to rub at his eyes. The metal gleaming around his wrist caught his eye for a second. He didn’t pay any special attention to it. It was simply like any part of his body.

The blanket he was wrapped in confirmed that someone, probably Mac, had decided not to wake them up.

Another whimper brought his attention back to Danny. Briefly he considered waking him up, as well, but then he shook his head briefly. The fact that they both had fallen asleep in front of the TV told him that they had been extremely tired, and Danny needed the sleep even more than he did. Besides, Danny could be dangerous when woken up.

So, instead he settled his hand on Danny’s back, between his shoulder blades, and rubbed soothingly. Powerful muscles twitched under his fingers – muscles that weren’t supposed to be there anymore. His own back ached in remembered sympathy, and he frowned.

This was impossible. These muscles had been removed years ago. They were not supposed to grow back and twitch. And it wasn’t the first time that he had noticed it. The twitching had grown more and more pronounced over the last few months, and so had the pain. Danny had brushed his concern off, blaming the pain in his back on the hours he spent hunched over a microscope in the lab, and Don had dropped the subject. Now he thought that it had been a mistake, but Danny would probably not listen to him.

He had to talk to Mac about this.

“Shh,” he whispered. His voice was rough from sleep, and he swallowed before trying again. “You’re safe, Danny, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

The massage and the familiar voice helped, obviously, and Danny calmed back down.

Don sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall. Mac was probably still awake, or already up again, and if he wanted to talk to him, now was probably the best time.

 

He crawled over Danny, making sure not to disturb him.

The thin, delicate bracelet around Danny’s wrist, so much more carefully wrought than his own and much more expensive, made him smile briefly. Danny was well-cared for. Even if Don would be gone from his life eventually, Mac would be there to take care of him, and Don knew nobody who deserved this care more than Danny, who had been through so much in his life.

He touched the bracelet carefully before straightening and padding over to Mac’s bedroom. He could see the light under the door and smiled briefly. It really was no surprise that Mac was awake. He was most nights. It was probably the only way to stay up with the paperwork, Don thought dryly and knocked softly, and when he heard Mac’s “come in,” he entered.

Mac’s bedroom was moderately-sized, but there was enough room for the bed and his desk, and Mac had moved out of his small home office after Claire’s death. According to Danny, who had been with Mac for longer than Don, he had changed several things in the apartment, and clearing out the office, to give Don, who had come to them only after Claire, a place to retreat, had been one of them. Don was thankful for it, even if he rarely needed the space. Danny’s bed was bigger than his, and that’s where he spent most of his nights anyway.

“Mac.”

“Don. I thought you were sleeping.” Mac looked up from the file in front of him and smiled. The lamp on his desk cast a soft, yellow light on the organized chaos in front of him, leaving the corners of the room in dark shadows.

“I was,” Don said and sat down on the edge of Mac’s bed, pulling his knees up and pushing his naked feet under the blankets to keep them warm. “Danny woke me.”

The smile faded. “Nightmares?”

Don shrugged. “I don’t think so. At least it’s not the only reason.”

Mac dropped his pen and sighed. “You noticed it too.”

“I’m sleeping with the man,” Don pointed out. “It’s hard not to notice it when he is in pain. Especially if he kicks me and keeps me awake.”

Mac nodded. “I spoke to several people. It is possible that he’s recovering from the trauma, and his body is healing itself.”

“After fifteen years?” Don asked skeptically. “What are his chances?”

“Slim,” Mac agreed. “But then, that never stopped Danny before.” He opened another file and showed him a piece of paper. “I pulled up his legal records – if our suspicions are right, I will set him free.”

Don felt annoyed, suddenly. “If we’re right, and his wings are growing back, fifteen years after he lost them, you don’t have a choice but to set him free,” he said sharply. “It’s illegal to keep normal people in your possession. That’s slavery.”

Mac nodded, seemingly unfazed. “True. But it’s legal to keep him under supervision, based on the fact that he hasn’t been on his own for the last fifteen years.”

Don shook his head. “He would have to agree to that. What if his life gets out of control again? You know him. He’s…impulsive. You saw what happened last year, with the Minhas shooting.”

“I hope he has learned his lesson. Of course, I will offer him the choice. If he wants supervision, I’m more than willing to give it to him. He can stay part of my Family. And of course he can – and hopefully will – continue working as a CSI,” Mac said. “But first, we need to verify our suspicion.”

“You do that,” Don said. He felt very tired suddenly and wondered why he’d even bothered. Mac was…Mac. He noticed things. He didn’t need Don to tell him that something was wrong with Danny. It was just that Mac, amazingly observant person that he was, could sometimes overlook the biggest clue right in front of him – usually when personal relationships were involved, or people close to him.

Obviously, this was not the case here.

“I’m going to bed.”

He untangled himself from Mac’s blanket and walked past Mac, towards the door, and again, like always when they were not working, he couldn’t resist brushing his hand along the edge of one of the powerful wings.

“Don’t stay awake for too long,” he said gruffly, feeling the soft flutter of feathers under his fingertips.

“I won’t,” Mac promised. “And tomorrow we’ll make an appointment for Danny. And for you. I want someone to have a look at your back, too.”

Don stopped mid-step. “I’m used to an earth-bound life, Mac,” he said softly. “I’m glad I’m still alive.”

Mac nodded. “We’ll see. Maybe we’re lucky.” He sighed. “Even if we’re right, that doesn’t mean anything. Maybe they are too weak. And then? I don’t know how Danny will react when his wings are taken from him a second time.”

Don didn’t answer. What was he supposed to say? He had the same doubts and questions Mac had, and even less answers.

He went back to the couch and crawled back under the blanket, knowing that he would be more comfortable in his own bed. But the couch was wide enough for a normal grown-up with his wings tucked in behind him. Danny and he had enough room to tangle up and sleep – wingless and Inferior as they both were.

He pulled Danny close and closed his eyes, trying to relax enough to fall asleep. But the memories of that faithful day, years ago, kept him awake.

The day he had lost not only his wings in a bombing that had the whole city hold its breath, but also his freedom and independence. The loss of such a vital body part automatically put him in the care of other people, but he had adjusted quickly to the fact that someone else owned him now. And the life of an Inferior wasn’t as bad as most people imagined. It was not as bad as he’d always imagined.

He smiled softly. Actually, he had started to like his life. He got used to having a keeper who had the right to make every important decision for him. He had been lucky: the NYPD had given him first into the care of his father, then to Gavin, and finally, three years ago, to Mac. Mac took good care of him, and he treated him like a normal human being, not some retarded cripple.

He treated him better than most people probably would.

And Don knew that Mac had no obligation to do so. He was, after all, still property of the NYPD until he was given into the permanent care of a civilian – like Danny, who belonged to Mac’s house. Mac could refuse to give him a home any longer, and he would go back into the system.

Don hoped that wouldn’t happen too soon. He had met Danny a few times before his current living situation, but once they spent more time together, they quickly became good friends – and even more.

Danny murmured softly in his sleep and burrowed his head against his chest. Automatically Don’s hand came up to rest on his back, rubbing softly.

The by now familiar twitching lulled him finally back to a dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A series of soft kisses over his throat and collarbone woke him up again, a few hours later.

“Good morning,” Danny whispered and settled more fully on him. “Sleep well?”

Don grinned at him lazily and hugged him close. “I did. Until a certain someone started kicking me.”

Danny shrugged. “I’m sorry?” he offered and kissed Don softly.

“Mac already awake?” Don asked and ran his hands over Danny’s back in a soothing caress.

Danny pressed closer to him. “Morning run,” he murmured and sucked slightly on a spot on Don’s throat, right over the collar of his t-shirt. “We have at least 30 minutes before he’s back.”

Don grinned and rolled them around so that he blanketed Danny’s smaller body with his own. “And what should we do with that time?” he asked playfully and bent his head down to touch his lips to Danny’s pulse point.

Danny pushed up against him. “Shower?” he suggested, already slightly breathless. “I could wash your back.”

 

**

 

“Hey.” Mac smiled at Stella and set his crime scene kit down. “Have you been here for long?”

“No.” Stella shook her head and re-arranged her elegant, dark brown wings on her back. “I just arrived, ten minutes ago.”

Mac gave her a look. “What do we have?”

Don stepped up to them. “Our vic is Alexander Hollis. He’s a broker, and a well-known member of the Mile-High-Club.” He raised an eyebrow. The Mile High Club was a nationwide organization of people who firmly believed that the traditional way of treating Inferiors, the wingless people, was the true way they should be handled. According to them, Inferiors not only needed a Keeper, someone who was legalized to make every decision in their lives, but they also shouldn’t be allowed in certain jobs.

The members of the MHC often got described by Emancipation Activists as a mixture of Country Club and Approvers of slavery, but there were many citizens who believed, at least to an extent, that the traditional way of handling things was the best.

“He’s been found by the bouncer, hanging from the window. That’s all I’ve got so far, club policy is ‘we’re not talking to second-class people’, unless they are properly collared and respectful towards humans.” He shook his head briefly and flipped through his memobook.

“Cause of death seems to be strangulation,” Stella thoughtfully added. “He’s been drinking heavily all night long, the barman said. He also said that there are several witnesses for that, and they all say the same. Alexander Hollis had a lot of enemies. Most of them EAs.”

“I remember reading about that. He got into a fight with some Wingless Association Members about their different views. Two of them filed charges against him for assault,” Mac noticed and looked up when Hawkes landed next to them, powerful black wings spread out widely to stop his momentum.

“Time of death: around midnight,” he said. “Our vic was a heavy man, so our killer is probably a big, strong person. We’ll know more after the autopsy.”

Mac nodded, grabbed a pair of gloves and spread his own wings to go up and take a look at the actual crime scene himself.

 

**

 

“Danny Messer.”

Danny looked up from the body and started smiling. “Kaile Maka. How ya doin’?”

“I’m great.” Detective Maka smiled and held up her notepad. “Our victim is Ellie Peterson, she lost her wings in a car accident six months ago. I spoke to the neighbor; he thinks she couldn’t deal with the loss.”

Danny snorted. “I can understand that.”

He took a few more pictures and straightened. “However – bruises on her wrists and throat. She struggled with someone. This isn’t a suicide. Defensive wounds indicate a murder.”

This second Lindsay entered from the bedroom. “I found a suicide note,” she announced. “Nah,” Danny shook his head and nodded towards the body. “Recognize the position?”

Lindsay studied the body that was laid out on the carpet, nodded and spread her own wings. “It’s the traditional pose of flight. But she didn’t have wings.”

“Yeah.” Danny nodded and tried to ignore the almost constant, sharp pain in his own back. Mac had told him to get an appointment with his doctor at breakfast, after he had returned from his morning run, and Danny had planned on following his keeper’s wishes – after his shift. Mac hadn’t told him the reason for this sudden check-up, and Danny hadn’t asked, even if he didn’t understand the need for it.

He chuckled softly. It had taken him long enough to reach the point where he could simply accept an order like this, and he suspected that Don’s influence on him played a major part in it. Only a year ago, he would probably have challenged Mac’s decision and refused to do what he was told.

“Do we know about enemies? Who would have a reason to kill an Inferior?” Lindsay thought out loud and started collecting trace, thereby jolting Danny’s thoughts back into the present.

“I don’t know, Montana,” he said distractedly. “Check this out.”

Lindsay moved closer and followed Danny’s line of sight. It took her only a few moments to see what he was talking about.

“Mile High Club Tattoo?” she wondered. “Why does an Inferior have a tattoo of one of the high-end clubs where only Normals have access?”

Maka shrugged. “She lost her wings only six months ago. I’m going to pull their records. If she was a member, she would have been tossed out after the accident.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Danny shrugged. “But usually they also remove the tattoo when they toss someone out.”

“The question is – why didn’t they?” Lindsay asked.

Danny smirked. “Why don’t we go and try to find it out?”


	4. Chapter 4

The letter sat, innocently enough, on his desk, right in the middle on top of a closed file, when he came back to the precinct. It hadn’t been there when he had left for the crime scene, and he knew what it meant.

Don shook his head slightly and turned the envelope in his hands, in the hope that it wasn’t for him. The evidence told him otherwise, though: his name was printed on it, in bold letters.  
Mentally shrugging, he opened it. He was a member of the NYPD, and even more, he was property of the NYPD, and it was his duty to follow his orders, even if they came in an envelope from the Human Resources Department and removed him from Mac’s care.

Don trusted the system to take care of him. He always had, and this trust had never before been disappointed. He knew that others thought differently, and he and Danny had had more than one argument about it, especially after the Minhas shooting a year ago. Danny was deeply suspicious of any sort of regulative organization. Don suspected that it was because of his past, and his family’s history with the Mafia, and the way they had treated him after Danny had lost his wings.

Danny never talked about it, about the Odyssey he’d been on ever since he lost his wings, until Mac had taken him in, but if his occasional nightmares were any indication, it had been hard for him, and Don wasn’t even sure he wanted to know all the details. He saw almost every day what could happen to Inferiors who didn’t have the safety of a keeper, of an ID bracelet that protected them from the normal people; the healthy, winged ones.

Quickly he skimmed over the letter.

It was nothing unexpected.

**

There were two ways to get to the 35th floor, where the crime lab was situated: by taking the normal way and flying; or by taking the way of the Inferior: the elevator. Danny sighed as he pressed the button.

He understood the depression Ellie must have felt upon becoming a cripple, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

He knew, of course, that he was supposed to stay objective, but sometimes it was just hard.  
He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. He and Lindsay had stayed at the scene for several hours, collecting even the smallest trace, from biological evidence of sexual intercourse to the smallest fiber and hair they could find. Nobody knew if it would be important later on. His back ached from being crouched over the carpet for so long, a horrible, stabbing pain that made him realize that he hadn’t done what Mac had asked of him – he hadn’t made an appointment with his doctor, and now it was too late. He shrugged and put his glasses back on. He probably was just tense.

The doors of the elevator opened and Danny entered the lab. It was already late in the evening, and yet, there was concentrated activity everywhere. A quick look confirmed that Mac was in his office, on the phone with someone. His serious expression and the tense line of his shoulders told Danny more than anything else that it was a case-related call.

Danny took his kit and slowly made his way over to the trace lab. Lindsay had probably already begun to process the evidence. He considered his options briefly and quickly ducked into the break room. He needed coffee if he was to stare into a microscope for the next few hours, until he would almost fall asleep on his feet, relying on Mac to let him crash on the couch in his office for a few short, uncomfortable hours of sleep.

“Danny.”

Stella’s voice made him look up and smile briefly. “What are you still doing here? I thought you had a date with Frankie?” he asked and poured coffee in a cup.

She shook her head and brushed a strand of her hair behind an ear. “I had an appointment with Aiden.”

“Yeah? How is she?” Danny took a sip of the coffee and almost burned his tongue. He hadn’t spoken to Aiden in a few weeks, and before that, Aiden had only briefly mentioned that she expected to be punished for the way she almost tampered with the evidence of her last case.

Stella shrugged. “Her wings have not been pinioned, only clipped. She’ll be back and flying in no time at all.”

“She’s staying with you?” he asked, thought for a second, and dumped another spoonful of sugar in his coffee.

Stella shook her head. “No, we agreed that she’s staying at her place, and she calls me when she needs something. I wanted to talk to you because of something else.”

“I’m all yours,” he grinned and bounced a bit on the balls of his feet. “How can I help you?”

“It’s Mac’s birthday in two weeks,” she said. “And I need you to keep him away from the lab for two hours. Think you can convince him to have lunch with you?”

Danny almost choked on his coffee. “What do I look like, a miracle worker?” he spluttered and mopped the spilled coffee up with the sleeve of his Henley.

Both looked up when Mac hurried off, crime scene kit in one hand, cell phone in the other, Hawkes close behind him.

Stella grinned. “It’s going to be a long night. Let me tell you what I’ve planned.”

**

Mac only briefly glanced in the direction of the breakroom. One good thing about the lab having glass walls was that it gave him the added advantage of being able to see almost everything that happened in the different rooms, and he had noticed it when Danny had entered the floor and then the breakroom, shortly followed by Stella, even as the biggest part of his brain concentrated on the phone and the details of the new case. A dead body had been found, and Mac knew what that meant – it was going to be a long night.

When he left his office, his coat slung over one arm, kit in the other, Hawkes quickly caught up with him, kit in hand and a serious expression on his face.

They spent the drive to their newest scene in silence.

Detective Vicaro already awaited them. Mac gave Hawkes one short look, and Hawkes kneeled down next to the victim and started to work.

“28-year-old male, his name is Nico Pasadoria.” Vicaro told Mac, and Hawkes looked up. “Cause of death seems to be sharp force trauma, caused by…”

Vicaro nodded towards an object a few feet off. “…that hammer?”

Hawkes gave him a small smile and bowed his head for a fraction. “Possibly.”

“There’s blood on it. We didn’t touch anything.” Vicaro shook his head slightly. “Nico Pasadoria had been in a rather fierce argument earlier this evening, before he ended up with a hammer in his brain.”

Mac lifted his flashlight, looking for footprints and other trace, while asking: “Do we know with whom?” He didn’t bother pointing out that the cause of death was as yet undetermined, and that there could have been another reason for it – other than the hole in Nico Pasadoria’s skull.“Yeah.” The detective pointed towards a man who talked to a uniform. “Him. He claims that he found the body and called the cops. We’re checking that out. I think he lies.”

“Does he have a name?” Mac asked and snapped on a pair of gloves.

“Yeah,” Vicaro nodded, wings moving slightly, nervously, and when he told Mac, Mac’s thoughts started circling and knotting together, always ending on one point.

Damn.

This meant nothing good, for all of them, but for one of them especially.

He nodded once before concentrating on the body. There was nothing else he could do right now, and he had a crime scene to process. He would take care of the other problem later.

He had to be careful, even more careful than he usually was.

He always had to be, with the Tanglewood Boys possibly involved…


	5. Chapter 5

“Danny.”

Danny blinked sleepily. Mac had been away all night, so after finishing his trace analysis; Danny had crashed onto the couch in Mac’s office.

“Danny, wake up.”

A hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed before starting to rub gently between his shoulder blades.

“I’m awake,” he murmured, rolled around and sat up slowly. “What’s up?”

Blindly he groped for his glasses on the table. Mac was crouched down in front of him, his hand still on Danny’s shoulder.

“Federico Zabo,” Mac said and handed him a photo. “You know him?”

“Zabo?” Danny asked as he rubbed a hand over his eyes and slipped on his glasses. “Yeah, we grew up in the same neighborhood.” He frowned. “Didn’t you ask me that about Salvador, too?”

Mac gazed at him for a long moment before guessing: “He is a Tanglewood Boy. Just like his brother.”

Danny nodded briefly. “He was, last time I heard,” he murmured and glanced at the photo. “My brother Louie knew him better than I did, though.” He looked down. Louie still was in a coma, after the Tanglewood boys beat him up. The doctors had almost given up all hope that he would ever wake up, and Mac suspected that Danny still blamed himself for everything that had happened to Louie.

Mac nodded briefly and leaned back. His wings spread slightly and allowed him to keep his balance as he watched as Danny struggled to wake up completely.

“Why do you ask?” he finally wanted to know. “What did they do this time? He’s dead, isn’t he?” Danny definitely sounded more alert now and he already tried to solve this mystery Mac had given him.

Mac shook his head. “I don’t know yet how he’s related to my case, but I walked in on him tonight. You know him, Danny – would he call the cops if he found a body?”

Danny yawned widely. “What – “ he began confusedly, but Mac shook his head again, only slightly this time. The question had been rhetoric. The Tanglewood Boys wouldn’t call the cops. They would take care of the problem themselves. The question now was: why did Zabo claim that he had been the one calling the cops? And how much was he involved in the death of Nico Pasadoria?

“Don’t worry about it. Just stay away from the rest of the Tanglewood Boys,” he advised and climbed back to his feet. “Do you want to go home?”

Danny looked at him for long seconds and sighed. “Nah. Just goin’ to sleep a bit more here, if that’s okay,” he mumbled and let himself fall back on the couch without taking off his glasses first.

“That’s okay,” Mac smiled and sat down behind his desk. He had reports to write, and Danny’s presence didn’t bother him, especially when the younger man was sleeping and not bouncing around. One glance at his watch confirmed that it was 4.30 am. He still had time to finish his preliminary report before breakfast.

 

**

 

Don looked up from his desk and frowned when he saw the familiar, brownish wings come towards him. Neither Mac nor Danny had come home last night, but that was nothing unusual, and Don hadn’t worried about it. However, for Mac to come down to the precinct, without telling him first, something must have happened. “What’s wrong?”

“Tanglewood,” Mac only said, and Don understood.

“Anything I can do?” he asked and pushed the envelope under a file before Mac saw it.

“Just – keep an eye on Danny, please?” Mac sighed. “I don’t want him anywhere near this case.”

Don nodded. “Have you talked to him?”

“Yes. He claims he’s okay.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Don leaned back in his chair and nodded. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

Mac nodded. “Thank you.” His hand settled briefly on the younger detective’s shoulder. “Did he make an appointment with his doctor?” he then asked.

Don shrugged. “I don’t know, he didn’t come home last night,” he answered and picked up his pen. “But I’m going to meet him to question some suspects later, I can ask him.”

“Good.” Mac nodded briskly. “Another thing.” He hesitated briefly. “Did you get your letter?”

Don blushed slightly. “I did,” he said and pulled said letter out from under the file, where he’d put it only moments ago. Of course Mac had known about it. He was Don’s keeper, after all. He probably knew about it before Don did. “I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

Mac shook his head. “When did you plan on telling me? Before or after you packed your stuff?”

Don looked up sharply. “I wouldn’t…” he began and bit his lip before determinedly meeting Mac’s eyes. “It’s not like that. I figured…hell, Mac. I don’t want to leave. And if you want me to leave, you could just have told me so.”

Mac snorted. “It wasn’t my decision, Don,” he said quietly. “But I’ll see what I can do. I’ll see you tonight.”

And with those words, he walked off.

Don shook his head in disbelief. So he was removed from Mac’s care for political reasons. It made sense, in a twisted sort of way.

He could, of course, call his father, let him investigate this and pull some strings on his own so that Don could stay with Danny – with Mac. But he figured that Mac had his hands full with Danny and the problems that would come towards them if the suspicions they both had were right, and he didn’t want to add to that.

He had placed his trust in the system, and the system hadn’t disappointed him before. It wouldn’t do so now either.

 

**

 

“Danny!” Stella summoned and lengthened her stride to catch up with him.

Danny raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Yes, Stella?”

“Your victim, Ellie Peterson? Her name is in my victim’s calendar. Repeatedly. They met the night they both were murdered, around 5 pm.” She held up a file. “We’re thinking that there’s a connection between the murders.”

“Hammerback estimated the time of death for Ellie around 5 pm,” Danny said. “And we found DNA under her fingernails.”

He pulled out his cell phone. “Did you find DNA at your scene? Maybe it’s a match, and…” he abruptly stopped his excited outburst to call Jane and ask her to compare the DNA under Ellie’s fingernails to any DNA found in the Hollis case.

“You’re thinking serial?” Stella asked as soon as he’d snapped the phone shut and put it back into his pocket.

Danny shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Maybe not a serial, but something else…however - if there’s a connection, we should be able to find it.” He gave her an optimistic grin, and she couldn’t help but answer it with one of her own.

 

**

 

“Hey Mac.” Lindsay stuck her head in his office, “Stella said you pulled me off the Peterson/Hollis-case?”

Mac nodded. “Yes. I need your help with this one. We have a body, his name is Nico Pasadoria, cause of death is sharp force trauma.” He watched with barely hidden amusement as her feathers bristled with pride about working with him, and handed her a file. “We found a feather with the body…”

“…might be the killer’s,” she finished his sentence. “I’m on it.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Lindsay.”

She walked off, wings slightly spread out, and Mac smiled at her retreating back before getting up himself. He would never admit it, but her eagerness to solve crimes amused him.

Right now, a hammer, a possible murder weapon, waited for him to get processed.


	6. Chapter 6

“Ellie Peterson was a secretary for Alexander Hollis until the accident. He became her keeper and decided that an Inferior was not someone he could employ in his company. Instead he gave her the job of a massage therapist at his local MHC.”

“Prostitution,” Stella translated with a slightly disgusted expression on her face. She, Don and Danny were brainstorming. They had retreated to the layout room, where the evidence they had was spread out over the table, and where they could concentrate on the facts of their case.

“Only if he gets money for sex,” Don reminded her and glanced back down to his memobook. Stella had called him and had asked him to look for connections between the two murders. Don had tracked down Kaile Maka and had gotten all the information he needed from her for the first murder, that of Ellie Peterson. He had compared them to his own notes from the Hollis murder, and had put them together with the background information he’d found for both victims.

“Since he was her legal keeper, he could have offered her services for free.”

“I know,” Stella sighed. “Ellie Peterson died yesterday, around 5 pm. The estimated time of death for Alexander Hollis is around midnight. She couldn’t have killed him for forcing her into prostitution.”

“She probably didn’t,” Don said thoughtfully. “And she couldn’t afford to pay someone for doing it for her. Hollis controlled her bank account.”

“We found his fingerprints and some feathers at her place,” Stella thought out loud. “And signs of a struggle. DNA under her nails is a match to him.”

“So they fought. That still doesn’t mean that he killed her,” Don pointed out. “As her keeper, he didn’t just have the right to be at her place, it was his responsibility. Strength comes with wings. He could easy overpower her. Besides, she never filed a complaint with the department.”

Stella nodded. “Who else had access to her place? Danny, were there any signs, trace, fingerprints of a third party? And did we find the murder weapon, a double-edged, shortened blade with a U-shaped hilt? Her wrists were slashed in a single cut, but she’s also been stabbed and suffered blunt force trauma to the back of her head when she hit the edge of the table. It says here in this report that Hammerback determined the cause of death as exsanguination.”

Danny shook his head. “Nope, it seems like the only people that had been at her place recently were her and Alexander Hollis.”

Don shrugged. “No known enemies. No signs of depression. For having lost such a major part of her body, she was remarkably well-adjusted.” He tried not to think about the letter that still again was hidden under several files on his desk. The chance that Danny stopped by the precinct and saw it lying around open on his desk was a risk he was not willing to take.

“And the suicide note Lindsay found?” Danny added after a moment. “I tested it. It was fake. Someone tried to copy her handwriting, but…” he shrugged. “It’s not a suicide.”

“The question remains,” Stella concluded. “Who killed Ellie Peterson? And who killed Alexander Hollis?”

They looked at each other for a moment.

“Back to the scene,” Danny finally sighed. “Flack?”

“You go ahead,” Don said distractedly. “I have something else I have to do first. I’ll catch up with you later.” And with those words and no further explanation, he left the room.

 

**

 

“Yo, doc.”

Hawkes stopped and waited for Flack to catch up with him. “How can I help you?” he asked with a smile.

“I…” Flack hesitated and ran a hand over his tie, “It’s just…can I ask for some advice? Medical advice.”

“Sure,” Hawkes nodded. “I’m heading out to get some food, care to join me?”

Flack hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded. “Sure, why not?”

Hawkes smiled again and turned towards the roof. “How does Chinese sound?”

He noticed that Flack had stopped and cocked his head slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid I’d drop you.”

Flack only snorted, but he started moving again. Even if he was afraid, because his subconscious mind remembered his dreams of falling, he would never admit that to anyone. Not Hawkes, and not Danny or Mac. He had his pride, after all.

Besides, he wasn’t afraid.

 

It was something they learned early in life, Hawkes thought as he tightened his grip on Flack only a few short minutes later on their trip down to their lunch, and again, they practiced it in Med School, or at the Police Academy – how to carry someone who was unable to fly for himself. The advantage of carrying someone who didn’t have wings, like Flack, was that they were not as heavy. His brain supplied him with the exact muscle groups involved in flight, the weight and strength of a pair of wings. Inferiors were weaker, for several reasons, and he tried to remember all of them on the short flight to the little Chinese restaurant he always went to.

He waited until they sat before asking: “What do you want to know?”

Flack picked up his chopsticks. “About wings,” he said slowly. “And the chance that they might grow back – after fifteen years.”

 

Of course, as it often was, Sheldon’s words did nothing to soothe Don’s fears, because basically, the chances of wings re-growing were slim to start with. Most of those secondary wings were too weak to carry a grown human, and they easily got hurt and had to be removed. And that all just applied only if the person survived the whole ordeal.

“We are born with wings, but they are developed inside the human body. Secondary wings break through the skin when they’re big enough. Think – an egg. A bird has to break through the eggshell, and wings have to break through the skin, just like that. The trauma and the blood loss is likely to kill or weaken the person, even before the second one is free,” Sheldon had explained, his dark eyes never leaving Don’s face. It truly was nothing he had wanted to hear, but had to.

He didn’t have the time to think about it for long. Hawkes had to get back to the lab – “Male victim, killed with a hammer, and all we have is a feather with a distinctive pattern. Lindsay is working on that,” he told Don on their way back, over the howling of the wind and the rustling of dark wings that carried them up to the 35th floor.

They didn’t expect to find the lab in utter chaos when they came back.

“Lindsay!” Hawkes quickly kneeled down next to the small, curled-up woman. Lindsay had wrapped her wings tightly around herself, but her feathers were ruffled up. Feathers were on the ground too. They were partly matted with blood. Lindsay was also bleeding from a wound in her arm.

“What happened?” Don snapped and pulled his weapon. “Where is Mac?” He swallowed against the bile rising in his throat as sudden dread filled him. “Where is Danny?”


	7. Chapter 7

An hour earlier

 

“And what are your plans for lunch?” Stella asked when Flack had left the room.

Danny shrugged. “A chocolate bar and a cup of coffee while I go over the evidence again,” he said with a small smile. “Want to join me?”

Stella grimaced. “I think I’ll pass,” she said and patted his arm. “I’m going to have some real food as soon as Mac is in court.”

Danny sighed wistfully. “Bring me back a sandwich?” he asked, giving Stella his best lost-boy-impression.

“Sure.” She grinned. “But first I’m going to look over this trace analysis.”

Danny laughed gently and closed the folder to take it with him to the breakroom. Even if he had nothing more than a chocolate bar for now, he would not eat it anywhere near the evidence. It was too risky, too dangerous. He was not willing to let a murderer, possibly a serial killer, get away just because he was too lazy to move a few feet.

The ringing of his cell phone made him look up.

 

“Danny?” Lindsay asked softly, for the third time, and settled a gentle hand on his shoulder. His muscles were tense under her palm.

“What is it, Montana?”

She swallowed when she finally heard Danny’s voice. It sounded like his thoughts were someplace entirely else, as if something had distracted, or shocked Danny into stillness. He was standing in the middle of the hallway, in the middle of chaos. The file he’d been carrying and his cell phone had fallen from suddenly nerveless fingers, and he had made no move to pick the sheets of paper, the test results and the crime scene photographs, back up. He was simply standing there and staring at something she couldn’t fathom.

She was suddenly very worried about him.

Danny frowned and finally shrugged. He tried, again, to ignore the painful twitch in his back. He still hadn’t made an appointment with his doctor, despite Mac’s disapproving glare about it that morning. He simply had forgotten about it - he had a case to solve, after all.

“Danny, what’s wrong?” Lindsay asked in confusion, fighting the sudden urge to wrap her wings around herself, hiding behind her feathers like a kid, just so she didn’t have to look at him. The stillness scared her.

She could only watch as the blankness in his eyes transformed into something akin to horror. “My brother just died,” Danny answered, his voice unnaturally calm, and walked off without saying another word. Lindsay stayed behind, and when he didn’t come back, she shook her head and picked up the papers and put them on his desk.

Ten minutes later, Lindsay saw that he was in Mac’s office, talking.

 

“Mac?”

Mac looked up from the piece of paper in his hands. Danny was standing in the door to his office, and he looked strangely subdued. “You got a second?”

He didn’t, really, because he had an appointment he fully intended to keep, but still he nodded and gesticulated for Danny to close the door behind himself.

Danny looked calm on the outside when he told Mac about Louie’s sudden, but not unexpected death, but he wasn’t bouncing in the slightest, and that, more than anything else, even the words, told Mac how deeply the younger CSI was shaken up.

“Things between me and my brother were never the same again,” Danny said and swallowed heavily. “After that one night…” They both knew what he was talking about, and Danny didn’t elaborate. “You know, couple of days after I…after I failed the initiation to the Tanglewood boys, I got run over by a truck, lost the wings and all. And things never were the same again.” Danny shook his head again.

“Mac…”

His voice was filled with so much pain and anguish, there was only one thing Mac could do. He walked up to Danny, wrapped both arms and wings around him and pulled him in a tight hug, letting the younger man weep on his shoulder, like he’d done the first night after Louie had been beaten so badly.

He smoothed his hand through Danny’s soft hair and down his strong back, soothing the tense muscles with gentle, but sure pressure.

“I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, his lips close to the shell of Danny’s ear, brushing occasionally against the feverishly hot skin. He felt Danny shuddering at the contact, but none of them tried to pull away.

They stayed like this for a long time, locked in a universe with feathery soft walls where nothing existed but them, until Danny’s sobs finally quieted down to soft hiccups.

“I’m sorry, Mac,” he whispered finally. His voice was rough and scratchy. “So sorry for disappointing you.”

“You didn’t disappoint me,” Mac murmured. “You did the right thing, Danny. You were there for Louie, and you did his best to help him. I’m proud of you.”

“Then why do I feel so bad?” Danny asked, almost tonelessly.

As much as he wanted to calm and reassure the younger man, Mac had no answer for that question. He could just hold on and hope that Danny would figure at least some things out himself.

He just tightened his arms briefly around Danny before letting him go and taking a small step back. “I’m proud of you,” he repeated firmly. “I’m proud that you’re such a great cop. You are a wonderful scientist. And I’m proud that you’re a member of my Family. You understand that, Danny?”

Danny nodded weakly. “Yes,” he said and wiped his sleeve over his face. “I’m sorry for being such a mess.”

Mac’s hand settled on his shoulder. “Go, wash up. I have a meeting, but if you want, we can have dinner tonight. I’m cooking. What do you think?”

Danny nodded again. “Sounds wonderful,” he said. “Damn, I…” he shook his head again. “I think…” A frown appeared on his face. “I’m going back to work now.” His lips twitched slightly. “I had a file in my hand when I got the call…”

He left the office, and Mac quickly grabbed his stuff. He was meeting with someone from the Human Resources Department to find out if there was a way of keeping Don. He hadn’t told anyone about this, not even Stella. As far as they were concerned, he had a court date.

Danny’s outbreak showed him that Danny was still hurting because of the whole Tanglewood mess. Mac wasn’t reassured by the quickness with which the younger man had bounced back after this latest blow. Losing Don now would probably be the last straw to break him, and if there was one thing Mac didn’t want, it was that. He’d already had to fire Aiden for tampering with evidence, and he didn’t want to fire Danny, as well.

On the contrary: he would do anything in his powers to keep him.


	8. Chapter 8

“There are two reasons why Ellie Peterson couldn’t have killed Alexander Hollis,” Danny said slowly and took off his glasses to clean them on the hem of his shirt. His eyes were red and itched from crying, and the cold water he’d splashed on his face hadn’t helped much.

After his embarrassing outbreak, he’d found Stella and Lindsay and had, to distract himself from the news of Louie’s death, concentrated back on the case. Stella had heard the news from Lindsay, and she had taken one look at him and had postponed her lunch until she was sure that Danny was okay.

Lindsay looked up from her own desk where she was working on a report. “Them being?” she asked, spreading her wings slightly in the hope to appear bigger. It was a futile attempt; Danny still looked down to her as he bounced slightly on the balls of his feet.

“I want to see you trying to lift Mac and toss him out of a window,” he replied. “Ellie had your statue and I guess weight, and Alexander Hollis was a strong man.”

“He also was her pimp,” Lindsay reminded him sharply.

“Yeah,” Danny shrugged. “But he also was her keeper. She could have pressed charges. And she did nothing. She went to her scheduled psych appointments, got her evaluation, and she never said anything.”

Lindsay looked at him speculatively. “Did you ever go?”

“Go where?” Danny asked back and frowned at her.

“The mandatory psych sessions.” She rolled her eyes at him.

Danny scoffed. “There is a reason they’re called mandatory,” he pointed out, while carefully not thinking about how Aiden had told him the same thing. Aiden, whose wings had been clipped and who now was looking for a new job, because Mac had to fire her. Aiden, who was his friend, no matter what happened.

Lindsay shook her head. “What’s the second reason?” she then asked.

Danny smirked, and, taking advantage of the fact that she wasn’t in the loop on the case anymore, answered: “The fact that she was already dead when he was killed.”

Lindsay threw her pencil at him. “I was just trying to help!”

He laughed and deftly caught the missile before it could hit Stella who’d commandeered Danny’s chair and who was quietly listening to their bantering. “I know, Montana. Sorry.” He threw the pencil back. “I just hope that Flack finds something useful.”

“Well,” Stella said and grabbed her purse, “we have to wait for that until he returns from lunch. And on that note –“

She got up and smoothed her shirt down. “Don’t forget that sandwich you’ve promised me,” Danny called after her. Lindsay just distractedly waved and continued typing.

 

Talking about that sandwich reminded Danny how hungry he actually was, and so he turned back to the breakroom to get that chocolate bar he’d promised himself earlier, when loud shouting and the unmistakable sound of a gun being fired stopped him dead in his tracks.

Pulling his own gun, he didn’t hesitate to slowly make his way towards the elevators, where the yells came from. His back twitched painfully, a sharp pain that raced from his shoulder blades downwards. Danny didn’t pay any special notice to it. It just wasn’t important. Something had happened – and now he also could see what it was, and his blood ran cold.

An intruder.

In his lab.

Calmly he raised his gun and trained it on the man who had gone to some lengths to conceal his identity: a mask was pulled down over his face; his feathers were dyed black to hide the pattern. However, something about the way he moved, about his way of holding the gun, about his voice stuck a chord with Danny.

He knew this man, who now held a gun to Adam’s temple and threatened to kill him.

“Rico!” he bellowed sharply.

The man pulled Adam around, one arm wrapped around the lab tech’s throat, the other hand steadily on his gun. Adam was breathing rapidly in his panic. Danny just hoped that he wouldn’t hyperventilate and lose consciousness. Rico wouldn’t have much use for an unconscious hostage. Who knew what he would do to him, if he thought he had no choice?

“Drop that gun!” Danny added. He didn’t want to think about the consequences of this. He hoped that Rico would listen to him.

The man laughed bitterly. “Messer. I should have expected that.”

“Drop the gun, Rico,” Danny said again, calmly, and quickly cast a look around. Mac and Stella were gone, as were Flack and Hawkes. Lindsay was crouched low behind him, her own gun drawn. But besides them, there was nobody there, only the techs, who were all unarmed. It was his responsibility now to make sure that nobody got hurt and that no evidence was compromised. One tiny nod at Lindsay confirmed to her that he was trying to get the situation under control, while his thoughts raced.

What would Mac do in such a situation?

“Nothing had happened yet,” Danny said. “It’s over; just drop that gun.”

“You’re wrong there, Danny kid,” the man said. “It’s too late for that.” His finger twitched on the trigger of the gun.

Danny put his gun down on the ground, where Rico could see it, and slowly climbed to his feet. Lifting his hands to indicate that he was unarmed, he walked towards the man, ignoring Lindsay’s gasp of surprise and his common sense that screamed at him for risking too much. Even if Mac always preached to him to follow the evidence, this was not the time for evidence. This was the time to listen to his gut, clenched in fear as it was. The evidence told him to keep his gun with himself – his instinct told him that Rico wouldn’t kill him. Not if he didn’t feel like he had to. At the moment, he had a hostage, and Danny was unarmed and not a danger to him. Danny hoped to keep that illusion of harmlessness up as long as possible.

“Rico,” he said and took one final step towards him. “Let him go.”

His hand slowly loosened the arm around Adam’s throat, while his eyes never left those of the intruder. Adam backed off as soon as he was free, and Danny took a breath of relief.

Too soon.

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You tricked me, again,” he hissed and swung his gun around. He aimed to a point slightly next to Danny, and fired. “You’re untrustworthy, Messer. I never understood why Sonny wanted you,” he hissed, over the pained outcry from Lindsay.

Danny flinched. He ignored everything around him, in the hope that everyone had found cover, and that someone had called the cops, ironic as it was. He needed to stall Rico and give his colleagues the time to get here.

“Why did you kill Nico Pasadoria, Rico?” he asked. “Why did you kill him? He was in Tanglewood territory, huh? Did he deserve to die?”

The man’s face twisted in rage and fury. “He talked bad about my brother, man!” he spat out. “Nobody talks bad about my brother and lives! My brother would never betray us like you did!”

Danny shook his head. “He called the cops on Sonny, Rico, and then killed himself. Whatever that guy you killed said was probably true.”

“No!” Rico’s hand with the gun swung around and just barely missed Danny’s head.

“He’s dead, Rico, and in a few minutes, the whole lab will crawl with cops to arrest you.” Danny smirked slightly. “Drop that weapon now.”

“How stupid do you think I am?” Rico asked, and Danny chose not to answer that question. “Why are you here, Rico?” he asked instead. “Are you trying to find evidence that your brother didn’t call the cops? He did. Trust me, he did. And you should drop that weapon now, before my co-workers find you here.”

“Messer, you’ve lost your mind. You’re just like your brother,” Rico growled and pressed the gun against Danny’s collarbone. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Go where?” Danny asked, but he didn’t resist when Rico grabbed his arm with his free hand and pulled him towards the elevator. Rico didn’t answer the question.

 

**

 

Lindsay couldn’t help the yelp of pain as the bullet hit her arm, and her gun fell from suddenly nerveless fingers, but she didn’t take her eyes off the spectacle right in front of her. She watched as Adam fled around the next corner, to safety. Her muscles trembled with relief. Danny usually knew what he was doing, at least she hoped so. She didn’t understand why he had dropped his gun, but something in her screamed at her to trust him. Danny knew what he was doing.

She wasn’t that sure about Adam in that regard.

Her arm hurt, and helplessly she watched as the man, Rico, pulled Danny into the elevator and went up, to the roof.

She wanted nothing more than to curl up and forget about the whole incident, but she had to check that Adam was okay, and she had to call Mac and Stella…the chime that indicated an arriving elevator made her tense up again. What if the man came back? What if he had shot Danny and now came back to finish whatever he had wanted to do? Whatever that had been. She had no idea what he had wanted in the first place. She had only noticed that he was in the lab when he’d fired his gun for the first time, and when she’d carefully picked her way towards the disturbance, Danny had already been there.

She took her gun in her left hand. She wasn’t as good with her left as she was with her right hand, but she would not allow this man to kill someone – only over her dead body. But before she could lift her hand to point the gun towards the elevator, the doors opened.

It hadn’t been the man.

Lindsay swallowed heavily to keep the tears down when she recognized the newcomers.

“Lindsay!” She felt Sheldon Hawkes’ hand on her back, rubbing soothingly. She took a shuddering breath when Flack pulled his weapon, instantly alert. The words refused to come for a second, but then she managed to answer his frantic questions with a few gasped words.

“Danny. Roof. Hostage.”

“Where’s Mac?” Don asked calmly while Hawkes clamped his hand down on the sluggishly bleeding wound on Lindsay’s arm.

“He’s…” Lindsay swallowed again. She was feeling dizzy, and the edges of her vision swam out of focus before she had herself back under control. “I don’t know, I think he went to court.”

Don nodded briskly and stood up. “I’m getting up. You try to call Mac or Stella and get them back here,” he ordered before turning towards the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

Where are we going, Rico?” Danny asked calmly and tried to ignore the gun that was still pressed to his collarbone. “You realize that you can’t fly with your feathers glued together like that, right? Right?”

He got no answer, but if he was honest, he hadn’t expected one. They spent the elevator ride in silence, the only sound in the small cabin was their breathing. Danny moved his shoulders briefly, to ease the tension. The twitching under his skin only got worse.

“It’s all Louie’s fault,” Rico finally growled, when they reached the roof, and dragged Danny towards the edge. “It’s all his fault, and he deserves to know what I’m going through!”

Danny stopped dead in his tracks. “Rico…” he said quietly. “Louie is dead.”

Rico stopped as well. He wiped a hand over his face before regarding Danny with a cool look. “So is Salvator,” he said. Danny noticed how he tried to sound cool and composed, but his voice cracked slightly right through the middle of the sentence.

“He shot himself, Rico,” Danny said quietly. “It’s true.”

He concentrated on the man, and pretended not to notice how the other man’s hand with the gun trembled. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. He and Sonny and Louie –“ Danny swallowed. “They killed a man, and your brother regretted it ever since. He called Mac before he killed himself.”

“No,” Rico whispered weakly. “Danny…”

Danny made a step forwards and took the gun from unresisting fingers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and Federico Zabo didn’t offer resistance when he cuffed him and then pulled him in a rough hug.

He took the time to take a deep breath. His back hurt like hell now, rippling spasms that stole his breath.

“Danny!”

Don hastened to reach Danny, who had moved away from the cuffed suspect once he recognized Don’s voice. His shoulders were tense under his jacket.

“Hey, Dan,” Don said softly and put his hand on Danny’s back, like he’d done in the past months when he wanted to calm Danny.

“It’s his brother,” Danny finally said tiredly. “Nico Pasadoria insulted his brother, and he took revenge. God, Don. Louie is dead. He died…” He trailed off and swallowed thickly.

“I’m sorry, Danny,” Don said quietly. “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s not your fault, you know.”

Danny turned around and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a flash of pain crossed his face, and he arched his back.

“Danny?” Don asked in alarm and took a step closer to grip Danny’s shoulder reassuringly and hold him upright.

Danny bit his lip in obvious pain and buried his nails in Don’s forearm.

“What’s wrong?” Don asked. “Danny?”

“Don’t know,” Danny panted. “Don…hurts…”

With a sinking feeling Don realized two things: Danny never had come around to call his doctor, and there was no way they could get to the hospital in time.

“Calm down,” he instructed and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He did the first thing he could think of.

He tried to call Mac.

After all, there was a reason why Mac was the number one on his speed dial.

Danny’s pain-filled grimace made him realize once more that he had no idea what to do now. He continued the soothing massage between the other man’s shoulder blades, hoping to relieve the ache a bit.

The storm-like noise of powerful wings filled the air around them, an eternity later, and for the first time since the first sign of pain on Danny’s face, Don allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Only seconds later Hawkes kneeled down next to where Danny had fallen to his knees, and Mac gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Let’s take that jacket and shirt off, see what we’re dealing with,” Hawkes said calmly, and six hands helped Danny to get out of his clothes, while Danny himself couldn’t do anything more than moan in pain.

Hawkes hands glided over his skin, over the pronounced twitching, and he gave Don a brief look. “Is that the reason for your questions?” he asked and pressed down. Danny’s body snapped away from him in a painful looking arch.

Don just nodded.

Hawkes shook his head. “No time,” he said. “Does anyone have a knife?”

Mac nodded. “Rule number eight. Always have a knife,” he muttered and handed his knife over.

“No way – “ Danny gasped and tried to twist away, but Mac and Don caught him and tried to stop him, while staring at Hawkes. “Can’t we get him somewhere more comfortable?”

Hawkes shook his head. “Not enough time, moving him now would cause only more pain…” his hands strayed back towards Danny, who bared his teeth and growled at him.

“Danny!” Mac finally bellowed, but Danny didn’t stop his struggle. He even doubled his efforts to get away from them. Mac couldn’t blame him. He would try to fight, too, if someone would try to cut in his back with a knife that wasn’t sterile. But this was important.

“I’m filing a report,” Danny gasped, “For abuse!”

“Messer!” Don finally barked.

It was more effective. Danny stopped moving and looked at Don with wide, panic filled eyes.  
“It’s going to be okay, I promise. Just stay calm and trust Mac, you hear me?”

Danny gasped, but he managed to lift his eyes to Mac’s face, and long seconds later, he moved his head and nodded once.

“I need you to hold him immobilized,” Hawkes’ calm voice interrupted. “Without anesthesia, and with only your knife, I have to do this the old-fashioned way and hope that we can keep him stabilized until we can get him to a hospital.”

“Why not get him to a hospital and then…” Don started, but Hawkes shook his head. “No time.”

Mac nodded and smoothed a hand over Danny’s sweaty hair before gripping his wrists tightly. “Let’s do it. You’re going to be fine, Danny.” He looked deep into Danny’s eyes, pulled him closer to Don’s body and braced himself.

Another twitch, but Mac held on. Don wrapped his own arms around Danny’s waist.  
“Do it!”

Hawkes’ hand settled on Danny’s back again, in the middle between his shoulder blades, pressing him forwards against Don’s chest, while weighting the knife in his other hand. His years as a surgeon had taught him that this was a delicate affair – especially in the middle of nowhere, on the roof of the lab. If he cut too deep, the shock and the blood loss might kill his friend; if the cuts were too shallow, muscles might be ripped, delicate bones deformed, and the struggle might weaken Danny enough to kill him, as well.

He was only dimly aware of Don’s soft words of comfort, whispered softly against Danny’s ear. The outline of Danny’s back, the violent twitch under the lightly tanned skin, was what he was focused on.

He knew he couldn’t wait for longer.

Sending a brief prayer to Icaros, he placed the sharp blade against Danny’s back, directly under his shoulder blade. The first cut had Danny howling in pain and almost jerking out of Mac’s and Don’s firm grasp. Blood flowed freely, but with the next violent twitch, the first wing broke free.

Hawkes pulled carefully at the weak bone, straightening it and not giving himself the time to marvel at the wonders of the human body. Instead he focused on his second cut; on making it as swift and as accurate as he could. This time Danny only whimpered softly and Hawkes saw that the second wing was struggling weakly to break free of its protective sheath of muscle and flesh. Carefully he gripped this one as well, pulling and coaxing it to spread out.

Danny made a broken sound deep in his throat and collapsed against Don. From his back weak, bloody wings stretched, slimy, too small, and wet, but they were wings.

Red wings.

They fluttered slightly in the soft breeze, and Hawkes ran a fingertip along the edge of one. They would grow, he was sure. As far as he could tell, they were healthy, perfect wings.  
Only then did he allow himself to take a deep breath. He grabbed Danny’s abandoned shirt and pressed it against the sluggishly bleeding wounds.

“Danny?” he asked softly.

Danny only whimpered.

Mac released his wrists and nodded. Only now did Hawkes notice that Mac’s own wings fluttered in barely suppressed nervousness, and Don’s grimace of pain. Danny had obviously bitten down on his shoulder in his agony.

They just needed to get Danny to the hospital now, to get the cuts cleaned and stitched up, and to make sure that the wings really were healthy.

The sound of a siren close by made him smile.

It was going to be all right.


	10. Chapter 10

“They are beautiful, Danny,” Stella smiled and ran a hand along one of Danny’s wings.

“Yeah,” Danny smiled and bounced a bit on his heels. “Not as strong as they could – or should – be, but I’m getting there.”

It had been two weeks since the wings had broken through his skin, two weeks in which he’d been caught between euphoria and depression. His whole life had suddenly been turned upside down, and the fact that both Don and Mac had known that this was happening to him and hadn’t told him anything, besides the short order to go and see a doctor, had hurt him deeply. In addition to that he hadn’t seen Don at all in those two weeks. He had spent the first four days at the hospital, to make sure that the wings were developing normally and that the cuts in his back didn’t get infected, and that they healed properly. The rest of the last two weeks he had spent at home, moving carefully, painfully aware of the additional weight of a pair of wings on his back, and the pull of stitches with every wrong move. It drove him crazy, and so he’d decided after having taken out the stitches to go and pay the lab a visit. The wounds on his back would need another four or six weeks to heal completely, and while his wings could carry his weight, his doctors had strongly advised against using them in the next two weeks.

Of course he couldn’t resist. He had wings now. He was a Normal. He could fly. He had to do it. The memories of flying – of feeling muscles work – was faded, and he had to create new ones. And every flap of his wings that brought him higher towards the sky was more intense than he’d ever remembered it being.

“No doubt about that,” Stella answered dryly. “What are you doing here, you’re still on sick leave.”

“I know,” Danny scratched his head slightly. “I’m going stir-crazy at home. And I haven’t seen Don for almost three weeks now. I checked the precinct, but he’s not there.” 

He didn’t tell her about the letter he’d found on Flack’s desk, mainly because he had no idea what to think about it. He had to talk to Mac. He was not Inferior anymore – maybe there was a way for him to get custody of Flack, even if he’d been a Normal less than a month. He didn’t know if he was allowed to keep an Inferior – he was still a member of Mac’s Family, after all. After a brief discussion with Mac he’d agreed to stay with the older man, under supervision, to make sure that he didn’t get in any trouble. But he was a free man, wasn’t he? He was, he realized, also a very confused man at the moment. He had to talk to Mac. And maybe to Don. But then, Don and Mac hadn’t told him about what was happening to him, too, why should he?

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you get some really good offers now,” Stella continued, oblivious to his dilemma.

“Offers?” Danny blinked in confusion, suddenly pulled back to the present. “For what?”

Stella shrugged. “Marriage, or a Companionship. Come on, Danny.”

Danny snorted. “Are you kidding me, with my past? Who would affiliate their family with me?”

“I’m sure Lindsay would.”

“Lindsay?” Danny shook his head slightly. “That’s just as likely as if Mac would do that. And let me tell you something, I’ve been with him for five years now, Stella, and he never made a move to show some interest. Never. Remember Rose, the woman he’d rescued in that shooting? She made him an offer, and he refused.”

Stella brushed a lock of her hair out of her face. “It’s Mac. As long as you’re in his care, he would never do anything that would seem like taking advantage of you, you know that. And Lindsay’s been looking at you.”

“How’s the case going?” Danny quickly tried to change the topic. 

“We’re still testing. DNA takes time, you know that. Besides, Flack is following a few leads of his own. And Lindsay is really looking at you.”

“Yeah,” Danny sighed. “And speaking of which, I have to go and see Mac.” He grimaced. “And I’m not looking forwards to that.”

Stella laughed. “Don’t worry, he won’t rip your head off.”

“I hope he doesn’t,” Danny grumbled slightly and waved. “See ya, Stella.”

Stella waved at him and returned to her case. The two weeks where Danny had been off she had worked the case solo, and DNA testing had taken its time too.

She looked forward to Danny coming back.

**

“Hey, Mac,” Danny grinned and stuck his head into Mac’s office. His right wing bumped slightly against the glass wall, jarring the wounds he still sported, but he did his best to ignore the dull throbbing his carelessness had caused.

“Danny.” Mac looked up from his desk and dropped his pen on the file in front of him. “I thought you were home?”

Danny grimaced and entered the office completely. “What are you doing?”

Mac leaned back in his chair. “Your paperwork, actually.” He smiled a bit wistfully. “Tomorrow, you’re a free man.”

“Yeah, free and homeless,” Danny quipped and carefully sat down.

“You know you can stay as long as you want. You’re still a part of my Family,” Mac pointed out.

Danny nodded. “I guess I have to thank you. For all you’ve done for me.” He looked down at his feet and fidgeted slightly.

Mac exhaled slowly. “You’re a good CSI, Danny. You solved my case, and managed to get our suspect in custody.” In fact, when the ambulance finally was there and they could concentrate on something else than Danny’s new wings, Federico Zabo was still sitting on the roof, a few feet away from them, sobbing uncontrollably. He didn’t offer resistance when they arrested him.

Mac shook his head. “Adam is fine, and Lindsay is okay too. You did a good job,” he simply said. “You’re worth the trouble.” His lips twitched. “Mostly.”

“What happens to you now?” Danny asked after a brief moment of silence. “With both of us gone?”

“What do you mean…” Mac started and sighed. “He told you?”

Danny swallowed thickly. “He didn’t. I haven’t seen him since…since…” a careless gesture over his shoulder indicated what he was talking about. “I went to the precinct to check if he’s there, found the letter on his desk.”

“You read it.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Danny nodded nonetheless. “I’m sorry, Mac.”

“It was not my decision, Danny,” Mac ran a hand over his forehead. “Don will be cared for.”

“I know,” Danny said bitterly. “And what about you? Who keeps you out of trouble? Or brings you in trouble, with both of us gone?”

“Don isn’t much trouble,” Mac teased gently.

“I know,” Danny answered immediately. “But you love me anyways.”

They both froze.

Finally Danny coughed uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he murmured. “You should call Rose and see if her offer is still valid.”

Mac was still stunned by Danny’s words, but he still managed to answer.

“I don’t want to be with Rose,” he said softly. “And I certainly don’t want to be the Companion to a bored, rich woman, just because she’s married to a member of the City Council…”

“Mac,” Danny said slowly. “You deserve someone.”

Mac shrugged dismissively. “I’ve got you two.”

“Until tomorrow,” Danny pointed out. “Besides, you’ve had me for what, five years now?”

“Yeah.” Mac nodded. “As a keeper.”

Danny was proud of his abilities as a CSI. Mac had said it himself, he was good at what he was doing, and yet, it took him some time to decipher what Mac was saying. But when the puzzle pieces finally fell into place, the picture made suddenly sense.

Danny groaned. “You’re such an idiot, Mac!”

“Wha-“

He didn’t give Mac time to say anything. He leapt out of his chair and started pacing in front of his desk. “We want you for, what, forever, and you never even look at us, just because you’re our keeper? Others do it as well! Ninety percent of all keepers do it! What did we do to deserve you?” He ran a hand through his hair.

“What? Danny…what do you mean –“ Mac started again, but Danny interrupted him again. He took off his glasses, put them on top of the file Mac had been working on, quickly walked around the desk, and roughly pulled Mac’s chair around, and suddenly, before Mac could react, in a blur of feathers, Danny was in his lap, kissing him senseless.

At first, Mac’s lips were unyielding, but Danny didn’t give up. He opened his mouth and let his tongue glide over Mac’s bottom lip, teasing and stroking, until Mac made a small sound at the back of his throat and relaxed under Danny’s ministrations. Their tongues tangled, and Danny’s hand clenched in his hair.

“Danny…” Mac settled his hands on Danny’s waist and gently pulled away from him. He ran his tongue over his lips and still tasted Danny. It was…strange.

“Mac,” Danny murmured. “What are we doing here?”

They looked at each other, and Mac was suddenly painfully reminded of Claire, and how he’d met Danny for the first time. Claire had teased him for falling head over heels for the young rash CSI he’d taken in, and how they’d lied in their bed, curled around each other, and Claire had suddenly rolled around to face him and had told him that he should do it, before someone else did it, and she had laughed and kissed him.

He swallowed. And now, five years later, Claire was gone, but Danny was still with him. For another day and night, before he had to set him free.

“Danny…” he whispered and dropped his head to Danny’s shoulder. “Danny.”

“I’m here,” Danny answered immediately. “I’m here, Mac.”

And that was the one thing it came down to. Danny Messer had been there for him in the last five years. He had stood by him in his darkest hours, and Claire had been right when she’d told him to make Danny an offer, wings or no wings. But he’d been afraid, so very afraid, and now it was almost too late.

This was his last chance.

“Danny,” he began, but the right words didn’t want to come. “Would you…” He bit his lip. “I’m feeling sort of silly here,” he finally confessed and ran his hand over Danny’s wing.

“You don’t sound silly,” Danny breathed. “Trust me, you don’t.”

Mac swallowed. “Danny…would you accept my offer to be a part of this Family – my Family? Would you agree to be my Companion, with all the rights and duties this position brings?”

It was more eloquent than his proposal to Claire, but Claire had understood him and reacted immediately, while Danny looked at him with an indescribable expression on his face. He looked younger without his glasses, more innocent, Mac thought randomly. It brought his protective instincts to the front of his mind.

“I’m going to take you flying,” Mac promised and settled his hand protectively on Danny’s shoulder. “If you say yes.” He swallowed, but he didn’t take his eyes off Danny for a long time.

“If you say yes, you’ll be mine. Mine. But, Danny, I’m going to take good care of you.”

Danny looked at him with wide eyes. He bit his bottom lip, and after a moment he nodded exactly once and, without thinking about it, whispered one single word that would change his future forever.

“Yes.”


	11. Chapter 11

For a minute, they stared at each other in silence. Both couldn’t believe what had just happened, not entirely. Finally, Danny chuckled breathlessly and kissed Mac softly. “Do I get a ring?” he asked.

Mac’s hands settled on his hips, with his thumbs stroking softly over the material of Danny’s shirt. “You want a ring?”

Danny nodded empathically. “Hell, yes,” he exclaimed.

Mac grinned. It was something so unexpected that Danny couldn’t help but answer with a grin of his own.

“Okay, hang on.”

Mac turned the chair towards his desk. He knew what he wanted, he knew exactly where it was.

“Before – before Claire died, she told me to get my priorities straight and make you an offer,” he explained softly. Talking about Claire still hurt so much, but Danny now had a right to know some things. “She knew how I felt about you, but she also knew me…she knew that I wouldn’t say anything…not without her pushing me in the right direction.” His groping fingers finally found what he’d been looking for, right where it was supposed to be, at the back of his top drawer. He pulled the small box out and opened it. “She bought this the night before…before the towers fell, and told me to give it to you before someone else got to his or her senses.”

He held up the ring. It was simple, but to Danny, it looked perfect.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered, before coughing and chuckling a bit. “It’s beautiful,” he repeated, louder this time.

Mac traced a fingertip along his neck. “Put it on your chain,” he said warmly. “It won’t get lost then.”

Danny nodded and took the ring from Mac’s fingers, while already pulling the chain from under his shirt. “Will there be a ceremony? When? What am I going to wear? What are you going to wear?”

Mac laughed at Danny’s enthusiasm. “We can have a ceremony, if you want. We can talk about that later. For now – Don is there.”

Danny climbed off Mac’s lap, a faint blush spread over his face. “You don’t mind…?”

Mac shook his head slightly. With everybody else, he realized, he probably would mind, because he knew perfectly well what Danny was planning, what Danny and Don were doing in the privacy of their rooms. The walls of his apartment weren’t that thick. But Don was different.

Some of his emotions obviously had played over his face, and Danny nodded and asked softly: “You’ll never tell him – because you’re his keeper.”

Mac didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Danny understood even without words.  
“I love you, Mac,” he said. “We love you.”

And with those words he left.

Mac watched his retreating back and smiled. Claire would have been proud of him.

**

“Flack!” Danny summoned sharply and hastily went after his old friend. He hadn’t seen him for almost three weeks now – after four days at the hospital, to make sure that his wings were developing like they should and to make sure that the stitches didn’t get infected and healed nicely, they had let him go home, but he’d been mostly alone there.

He hadn’t seen Don once in these boring weeks of sick leave. He’d always managed to escape him. Danny had been sure that Don had slept at the precinct, but Mac had assured him that wasn’t the case. And yet, Don had disappeared, and so Danny finally got dressed, which was a task on its own, with the still unfamiliar feeling of wings, and had made his way down to the precinct, only to find a deserted desk with an opened letter on it.

Of course he’d read it. And now he half-wished he hadn’t. But there was no use for crying about spilled milk, and so he went to the lab. He knew that Don would, sooner or later, come there. And while he waited, he could just as well talk to Mac about the whole situation, he’d decided. Mac’s offer had totally thrown him for a loop.

“Danny,” Don acknowledged when he saw him and shifted slightly. “What –“

“Shut up and start walking,” Danny said harshly, “unless you want me to bend you over the next desk here at the lab.”

“Messer, I’m working here,” Don hissed, but Danny simply grabbed his arm and pulled him along, towards the elevator.

“Now, you’re taking an early lunch break,” he informed him without releasing his arm from his grip.

The moment his wings had dried and strengthened a bit, he had been able to lift his own weight off the floor, and the doctors had reassured him that everything was okay. But the lab was still on the 35th floor, and Danny was sure that his wings, with the muscles still being weak, wouldn’t keep him and Don in the air, and so he opted for the easier way to get to the ground floor. Besides, even if the stitches were out, he still had the cuts in his back, and he didn’t want to reopen them.

He had plans.

**

As soon as they’d entered the apartment, Danny pressed Don against the wall, using all of his weight to his advantage. His lips found Don’s, and his tongue sneaked out to lick over Don’s bottom lip.

“I haven’t seen you in almost three weeks,” he grunted, “Why are you avoiding me, Don?” 

Every word was accentuated by a nibbling kiss that left Don's lips red and swollen, before the taller man finally tore away from him and let his head fall back against the wall. Danny didn’t stop his assault just because of that. He pressed a line of open-mouthed, sucking kisses over Don’s jaw and throat, while his fingers pulled impatiently at the dark-blue tie around his neck. He didn’t pay any special attention to the subdued pattern of thin purple stripes, before the knot became undone and he could start to unbutton the white shirt Don wore. He pulled the shirttails from Don’s pants and brushed the soft material off Don’s shoulders, trapping Don’s arms in the sleeves. The whole time his lips never left Don’s face and throat.

“Danny – no,” Don panted and half-heartedly tried to get away, but Danny only slammed him back into the wall and rubbed the heel of his right hand over Don’s already half-hard cock. “You – Danny, stop,” Don moaned. “You’re injured…” He couldn’t stop the involuntary twitch of his hips forwards against Danny’s hand and the friction of rough fabric on his over-sensitized skin.

“I won’t stop,” Danny whispered. His breath was coming in shorter gasps now as well, but it was by far not as labored as Don’s. “If I have to choose between them and you…”

Don stilled. “You’d still take them,” he said quietly. His eyes never left Danny’s.

“Maybe,” Danny admitted after a moment, “but you’ll be a very close second.”

Don laughed tiredly, a bitter laugh that sounded hollow, even to his own ears. “You have everything, Danny. I’m nothing. I’m broken. Damaged goods.” He pulled his shirt from his elbows back up, leaving it trailing open, but his arms free and his movement unrestricted.

“Shut up,” Danny snapped and crushed their mouths back together. The sharp edge of his teeth cut painfully in Don’s lip. They both tasted the metallic tang of blood when Danny’s slick tongue pushed between his lips, over the small wound, running over the hard surface of his teeth before entwining with Don’s, curling around it and stroking along it. Finally he encouraged it to follow back into Danny’s mouth, which allowed Danny to gently suck and nibble on it.

His left hand hadn’t left Don’s shoulder, but his right one was still brushing against the front of Don’s pants in teasingly light strokes. His eyes behind his glasses, knocked slightly askew on his nose, burned with intensity as his left hand glided over Don’s chest, tracing his pectoral muscles through the worn cotton of the thin t-shirt he was wearing underneath his shirt.

“You’re mine,” he growled quietly and pulled down the zipper of Don’s pants. “Mine, you hear me?”

Don didn’t answer, but when Danny took a step back to simply look at him, he groaned in protest and reached for the smaller man with trembling hands.

“I’m still me, you idiot,” Danny said softly.

He pushed Don’s pants and underwear carefully down while kissing him again. The smell, sound, and taste of Don, so painfully familiar and yet so different every time, aroused him to the point of painfulness, and he rubbed his trapped erection against Don’s hip for a moment before he could stop himself. Don moaned softly and thrust towards him, and Danny leaned against him for another deep kiss, before wrapping a hand around Don’s erection, stroking roughly up and down a few times.

“You’re hot like this,” he murmured through clenched teeth and stilled his hand. The soft groan Don couldn’t stop from escaping shot through his body like lightening, making his skin tingle and his own cock twitch.

“Don…”

“Messer!” Don hissed, “Don’t you ever shut up?”

“Don’t worry,” Danny smirked. Slowly he sank to his knees and looked up through his lashes at Don who was worrying his lip with his teeth. His fingers scrabbled at the wall he was leaning against, and when Danny leaned forwards and licked a broad stripe over his cock, directly in front of his face, Don’s whole body snapped forwards in an almost painful looking arch.

Danny pushed him back and held him firmly in place with his hands pressed into Don’s slim hips before leaning forwards again and sucking the head of Don’s cock into his mouth. The taste exploded on his tongue, and he couldn’t stop himself from moaning and taking Don deeper, until the tip hit the back of his throat and he had to pull back if he didn’t want to gag.

It wasn’t the best blowjob he’d ever given. It was messy, the hard floor was hell on his knees, his jaw had started to hurt and when Don came with a sharp hiss and with his hands tangled in Danny's hair to hold him close, he himself was still very much aroused. However, he still took his sweet time, cleaning Don off with his tongue and soft kisses. His hands had left finger shaped red and white spots on Don’s hip, spots that would eventually turn into bruises. Don’s head had fallen back to rest against the wall, and from his position Danny could only see the long line of his throat while Don panted softly.

Danny waited a moment until he could be sure that Don's knees wouldn't give out before standing up. He tangled his hands in Don’s short hair and pulled him down for another kiss.  
Not a word was spoken as they stumbled together into the bedroom, tugging at Danny’s clothes and kissing, biting at each other’s lips with their bodies pressed close to each other.

Danny pushed Don down on the mattress and crawled over him, straddling his hips and rubbing against him; while kissing him again. His hands pushed at Don’s t-shirt and glided underneath it, over old scars from the bombing – the bombing that had destroyed Don’s wings beyond the point where they could be saved.

His hands and lips knew those scars; he knew Don’s whole body almost as intimately as his own, and yet it was as if he’d never touched it as he pushed up the shirt and kissed along the arch of a rib and over the rough surface of scar tissue. The tip of his tongue traced along the length of the scar on Don’s stomach before it dipped briefly in his navel.

“Danny…” Don leaned up on his elbows, one hand insistently tugging on Danny’s hair, “Danny, stop. You’re still injured…Danny!” He pulled on his t-shirt, letting it fall down over his stomach and hiding the scars from view again.

“The doc said they’re fine as long as I don’t put too much stress on my back,” Danny answered. “And I haven’t seen you in weeks. It’s almost been a month.”

He raised and quickly stripped, fighting a bit with his shirt before pulling it over his head and not caring about the ruffled feathers. He shook them out briefly and tried to ignore the look Don gave him before he re-folded them carefully, letting muscles settle in a natural position, and crawled back on the bed. He helped Don to take off the t-shirt and dropped it on the floor before tossing his glasses on the nightstand.

“What have you planned?” Don asked, amusement evident in his voice.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Danny replied easily and smiled. “Turn around.”

“Are you sure?” Don asked, but he already moved and settled on his stomach.

Danny ran his hands lightly over his back. “Why not?” he asked and bent down to press a line of kisses along the scars on Don’s back, where his wings had been.

“You’re injured,” Don reminded him and arched when Danny’s lips brushed over a particularly sensitive spot near his shoulder blade.

“I’m fine, Don,” Danny whispered and licked over the rim of Don’s ear. “Trust me.”

His wings fluttered slightly in excitement as his hands wandered lower, over Don’s spine and finally over the firm muscle of his ass. His fingertips brushed lightly over warm, soft skin, and with a sigh, Don gave in. He visibly relaxed and spread his legs slightly.

“That’s it,” Danny grinned and pulled the lube from under the pillow. It had been there for the last three weeks, and no matter how uncomfortable that had been for Danny, he wasn’t willing to put it away. He still had had the hope that Don might appear.

And now, Don was here, and he was here, and he was going to fuck him good, he promised himself while quickly, but carefully, preparing Don. One finger, two fingers, three fingers, and Don moaned softly into the pillow and clenched his fingers into the bedspread while he moved with Danny and wordlessly begged for more. Danny grinned and pulled his fingers away.

“Turn around,” he ordered again. “I want to see your pretty blue eyes.”

He pushed a pillow under Don’s hips and pulled Don’s legs over his shoulders before grabbing the bottle of lube one more time and slicking his own erection. The touch of his own hand had him clench his teeth, and he took a careful breath before pushing forwards, against, and into Don’s body. He stilled briefly to give Don time to adjust, and to push a bit against the leg over his right shoulder.

Don moaned softly as Danny slid into him and stilled.

Feathers glided along his calf, got caught in the short hair there and tickled him slightly. Don laughed breathlessly. “Why take the feather when you can take the whole chicken,” he teased gently. Danny only frowned and hitched Don’s leg higher over his shoulder. 

“Are you saying I’m a chicken?” he asked before he leaned down and attacked Don’s mouth in another hungry kiss.

“You’re the one with the feathers,” Don pointed out and pushed back, against Danny. “It clearly indicates…” he stopped with a strangled little gasp as Danny started rocking against him, pulling out and thrusting back into his body with the urgency of almost painful arousal.

Danny didn’t last long. The tight heat of Don around his cock, the hard muscles of his chest under his hands and Don’s lips against his own as they shared kiss after kiss quickly overwhelmed him and pushed him over the edge of orgasm and into boneless, limp satisfaction.

**

“Move,” Don ordered after a while, “You’re shedding.” He lifted a shaky hand and brushed it over Danny’s sweat-damp hair where the other man’s head rested on his chest.

Danny smirked lazily at him and sat up before he stretched. “Technically, it’s molting, not shedding.”

“Whatever you’re calling it; you’re leaving feathers all over the place.” Don rolled over and picked one up. When holding it up against the light, it looked as if it was still reddish, but the color of Danny’s wings had darkened to a darker brown. They were even darker than Mac’s, who had surprisingly colorful wings.

Danny coughed to get Don’s attention back to the present. “I’m not giving you up. We’ll find a way,” he said softly, proving that he was still the same, just with the difference that, when bouncing excitedly, he now left feathers behind; and when he was really excited about something, he was not only bouncing, but sometimes flying several feet in the air before he remembered that he had wings again and fluttering them lifted him off the ground. If he wanted to prevent his head hitting the ceiling, he had to stay with both feet on the ground.  
Don sighed. “Do you want that back?” he asked and waved the feather. He didn’t want to think about leaving, and even less did he want to talk about it with Danny. Changing the subject of their conversation seemed like the best thing to do. He also didn't want to confess to Danny that yes, he'd been hiding from him. Danny didn't need to know that he'd spent the last three weeks in his old room at his parents' place. No, Danny really didn't need to know that.

Danny squinted at it for a second before shaking his head and grinning widely. “Nah. Keep it. I’ve got enough of them.”

“True,” Don nodded and watched as more feathers sank to the floor. “And you’re still shedding.”

Danny only sighed. His wings dropped. “I saw the letter,” he confessed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Why didn’t he tell Danny, who was not only his lover, but also his best friend, that he was to be given into the care of another keeper? Danny was a CSI, and he would find out sooner or later – and he would have noticed if Don packed his possessions and moved out. Don liked to tell himself that he had kept it a secret because Danny had enough other things to worry about, but if he was completely honest with himself, that wasn’t entirely true. He didn’t want to face Danny and tell him the truth. He was afraid that Danny would do something rash. Not telling him had seemed to be the best way of dealing with things – if Danny only found out afterwards, there wasn’t much he could do, and the whole problem would have solved itself. It was the coward’s way out, and Don knew it. It was part of the reason he didn’t want to think too closely about it.

Don rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you tell me that Mac offered you a Companionship?” he asked back and tangled his hand in the chain around Danny’s neck, where Mac’s ring had found its place.

Danny shrugged. “It just happened a few hours ago, and I didn’t have the time yet. I just had other things on my mind.” His hand reached out to touch Don. “Did you request to be taken away from Mac? You can tell me, you know.”

Don shook his head. “Nope. Took me by surprise, too.”

They were silent for a long minute, the only sound in the room being their soft breathing and the occasional rustle of feathers, until Danny bumped his shoulder against Don’s and asked: “We’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Don agreed, and that was all they said about it.

**

“Danny, you’re back again.” Stella grinned amusedly. “Mac’s work ethics are contagious, huh?”

“Yeah.” Danny shrugged slightly. “I’m going stir-crazy at home. So –“ he clapped his hands and rubbed them together, “What do we have?”

“Not much more,” Stella sighed. “Flack found out that Alexander Hollis had three offers for a transaction; to give Ellie Peterson in the care of someone else. Flack’s working on that. We need to find out the names of those who made those offers.”

“Do we have any ideas if the offers came from different people or from the same?” Danny asked with a small frown. “And a positive ID for them?”

Stella shrugged. “Happy clients?” she offered with a mixture of innocence and sarcasm. “Flack is working on that. They obviously don’t like talking to Inferiors, unless they are properly collared…and even then, it takes some time. He said he had another lead he’s checking out, but I haven’t heard back from him yet.”

Danny nodded. “Anything else? Let’s go back over what we have, okay?”

“Yeah.” Stella grinned. “I went to the morgue and got the report from Sid.” Her grin widened at the memory of that.


	12. Chapter 12

“The victim’s wrists were slashed, causing her to bleed out – she died of exsanguination. But that isn’t all. She was stabbed, peri- or postmortem – in the chest and stomach.” Sid Hammerback pulled his glasses down and gave Stella a wink. “So, about that dinner I kept talking about?”

“So the killer stabbed her when she was already dead or dying,” Stella mused, choosing to ignore the dinner-comments Sid had been dropping the whole time she’d been at the morgue.

Sid nodded. “Bruises indicate that she’s been struggling somewhat fiercely. In the end, she was simply overpowered. Tox screen came back negative. I collected a rape kit, sent the results up to DNA.” He smirked and held up several clear plastic bags. “Clothes and the scrapings from her nails.”

“Thanks, Sid.” Stella nodded and turned to leave.

“What about that dinner?” The ME called after her, and she just gave him a cheerful wave over her shoulder.

**

“Anything useful from the DNA?” Danny asked. Stella shook her head. “She had sexual intercourse prior to her death, with Alexander Hollis. DNA under her nails was not his, though. But we have no match for it.”

“Hm.” Danny said thoughtful. “What about our second victim? Anything?”

**

“Alexander Hollis, age 47.” Sid pulled the sheet down to reveal the victim’s head and upper torso. “If the rope around his neck hadn’t killed him, the alcohol would have,” he noticed. “Blood alcohol level was point 73, which indicates heavy and regular drinking. His liver was about to give out.” He pulled the sheet a few inches further down. “Cause of Death: asphyxiation, or, to be more exact: ligature strangulation with a thin rope. The neck broke post-mortem, when he was tossed out of that window.” His lips twitched into a half-smile. “Did Stella get my invitation?”

Mac lifted an eyebrow. “Invitation?” he asked blankly. “And why don’t you ask her that yourself?”

Sid smiled. “She already picked up the report.”

Mac shook his head slightly. “Sid…” he began, before he stopped himself. Stella was a big girl, she could take care of herself.

Sid’s flecked, grayish wings shook with barely suppressed laughter. “Sometimes I can read your thoughts on your face,” he said. “It was just an invitation for dinner. An old friend of mine is in town, and he’s cooking a big charity dinner – I need a classy woman at my side…”

Mac shook his head. “Anything else on my case?” he asked, back to business, and Sid pulled the sheet back up over Alexander Hollis’ lifeless body. “Not much. Trace under his nails, but I sent that already to the lab.”

“Good,” Mac nodded. “Thank you, Sid.”

**

Danny smirked. “So, are you going to that dinner with Sid?” he asked. 

Stella only gave him a brief look. “There was nothing that would indicate a connection between the two victims, besides the fact that he was her keeper. But the DNA under his nails was a match to that we got from under Ellie’s nails. Oh, and the knife Ellie was killed with?” Stella raised an eyebrow. “It’s a Khukuri, a Napalese knife.” She didn’t tell him that she just spent the better part of an afternoon stabbing knifes into a pig, until Mac had helped her determinate what kind of knife had been used to kill Ellie Peterson.

And she would never admit that she had fun doing it.

“The man who asked repeatedly for a transfer of Ellie Peterson into his care?” Don started without preamble as he caught up with them – and promptly ducked as Stella, who hadn’t seen him walking towards them, whirled around, wings spread in a defensive pose, the sharp edge of bone cutting through the air where his head had been only moments ago. Federico Zabo’s attack on the lab had left them all shaken-up.

Her face softened when she recognized him, and she gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Flack. What about him?” she asked.

He held up his memobook. “Since his secretary had destroyed his black book –“ the expression on Stella’s face told him what exactly she thought about that little fact – “I went to the Department and checked the records. His name is Paul Becker. Ellie never filed a complaint against her keeper – however, she filed one against this man. Said he was stalking her. The best thing – he was at the scene of the Hollis murder. Barkeeper recognized him.”

“Alexander Hollis refused to give up Ellie Peterson to him – he got jealous. Gentlemen, we have a motive.” Stella smiled. “Let’s go and get a warrant.”

**

“Danny,” Hawkes sat down next to Danny with a friendly clap to his shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

Danny sighed. His wings fluttered softly before settling down again. The time it took to find a judge willing to give them a warrant had given him the chance to think about his situation, and his feelings, no matter how much he had tried to avoid it. Thinking about his situation automatically led to thinking about the offer Mac had made, and about Don’s insecure future.

There was nothing good coming from thinking about this.

“Waiting for a warrant to happen…and I need to talk to Mac, that’s all,” he finally revealed.

“Any problems? Anything we can help you with?” Hawkes asked, mildly alarmed.

“No, I don’t think so.” Danny shook his head and hesitantly revealed: “I got an offer. For a Companionship.”

“That’s great, isn’t it?” Sheldon asked carefully and bumped his shoulder against Danny’s.

“Yeah, I guess.” Danny sighed again. There was no need to keep to keep anything back; Hawkes knew most of his history anyways. “With my past…it’s everything I ever dreamed of, and even more.”

“And?” Sheldon asked and took off his glasses, before deciding to change tactics. “Did you know that the first Companions were close friends and advisors of kings? They were trusted individuals who took care that their bonding partner wasn’t being poisoned by their wives.”

“Thanks, Hawkes,” Danny groaned. “I feel so much better now.”

“The sexual aspect entered Companionship only centuries later. Today, the average man has not only a wife – or a divorced wife – but also one or two Companions at his side. And of course his wife does, too. In some societies, Companions are highly prized merchandise.”

“Thank you, Sheldon,” Danny said, sarcasm coloring his voice. “Now I feel like a whore.”

“Not a whore,” Sheldon corrected. “More like a concubine.”

The only answer he got was the thump of Danny’s head as he dropped it to the table. 

Repeatedly.

He laughed. “So, who made you an offer? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Danny straightened and grinned happily. “Mac did.”

“Mac did,” Hawkes repeated. “And where is the problem with that? Mac obviously loves you. He did for a long time now.”

The smile disappeared from Danny’s face and made room for an unhappy frown. “I don’t know, Shel, I really don’t. I love him, but I also love Don,” he admitted.

That explained so many of Danny’s worries and problems, Sheldon thought. Danny cared deeply for Don, and now he felt as if he had to choose between the two men he loved, not seeing a third option.

“You should talk to them about it. To both of them,” he advised. “Maybe there is no problem at all, and you just worry too much.” He picked up the file he’d been carrying around. “The report on the Nico Pasadoria case. Since you’re already here, bring that to Mac and ask him to have lunch with you.”

Bemusedly Danny took the report and flipped through it. “Which of us is the rookie?”

Sheldon chuckled. “That would be me, I think. But you’re the blushing bride, so to speak, so go get your man. You’re entitled to. And you need to talk to him about this problem of yours.” He grinned. “Besides, isn’t today the day where you were supposed to lure Mac away from the lab for an hour anyways?”

“Yeah,” Danny nodded. “But with the warrant arriving every moment…”

“…you know that takes some time,” Hawkes interrupted him smoothly. “And Stella is capable of keeping track of both. So go.” And with those words, he shooed Danny out and towards Mac’s office.


	13. Chapter 13

The uncharacteristic soft knock made Mac look up from his computer and frown at the interruption. But as soon as he saw who his visitor was, his frown disappeared under a smile.

“You’re spending more of your downtime at the lab than at home,” he said.

“Yeah,” Danny held up the file. “Yenta Hawkes sends me.”

“Yenta Hawkes?” Mac repeated bemusedly and leaned back in his chair. “And where did you meet him, when you’re on sick leave and supposed to be home?”

Danny’s wings drooped until the tips almost touched the floor. “I needed fresh air. And they don’t hurt anymore,” he muttered. “If you want me to go…”

“Danny.” Mac interrupted him. He waited until Danny looked up at him before explaining: “I don’t want you to go. I was just surprised to see you, that’s all.”

He had, of course, noticed that Danny had become very skittish around him, ever since he’d made the offer. Mac was the first one to admit that it hadn’t been a very eloquent bonding offer. He’d stumbled over his words and stuttered like he hadn’t in a long time. But Danny had accepted it. Now, after watching him pull more and more back from him, Mac couldn’t help but think that he’d done it just because he felt guilty, or because he thought he owed it to Mac.

Danny shrugged and changed topic. “Hey, are you hungry?”

Mac wanted to decline, but something in Danny’s voice made him reconsider it. Besides, lunch gave him an excuse to talk to Danny, for once.

“I guess I could eat,” he said slowly.

“Great,” Danny smiled. “Let’s go and have lunch.”

“Go where?” Mac asked, but he already had grabbed his jacket and put it on.

“Not the breakroom,” Danny grinned. “Didn’t you know that it’s a Companion’s duty to make sure their partner isn’t being poisoned?”

Mac laughed softly. “In this case – lead the way.” He brushed his open palm possessively over the wing closest to him, feeling the muscles twitch and jump under his caress. He couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed about Danny – he had warned the younger man about his possessiveness, and Danny had known about it beforehand. And yet he’d said yes, had agreed to be Mac’s Companion.

They really needed to talk about this. Maybe they could come to an agreement, and if Danny really was uncomfortable with him, there was only one thing he could do.

 

They went to a little restaurant, and Mac waited until they had settled down before taking Danny’s hand. “Danny…” He waited until the younger man looked at him. “…if you don’t want to be my Companion…”

“What?” Danny interrupted him, stunned. Mac took a deep breath.

“Are you…are you going to take your offer back?” Danny asked hesitantly.

“No, of course not.” His grip on Danny’s hand tightened a fraction. “But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with this. With me.”

“I’m not!” Danny protested. “I’m just…” he bit his lip. “worried.”

“Danny, talk to me.”

Mac didn’t care that he was pleading, that he was begging. All that counted now was to follow the evidence, find out the truth, and save what of their friendship could be saved.

“It’s just…Don.” Danny looked up with wide eyes. If he didn’t know Danny better, Mac would say that something akin to fear was on the younger man’s expressive face. “It’s so unfair, Mac. I’m getting all I’ve ever wanted, almost all I’ve ever wanted...and he? Why does he have to leave? Can’t you do anything?”

Mac exhaled slowly. He didn’t know if to feel annoyed at Danny or not. Danny had this ability – he could, without even meaning it, drive him insane. Unfortunately, he thought in amusement, he had come to the realization that he really loved Danny, and that meant that he would do a lot for him, and not strangle him just because Danny had maneuvered himself in a corner and now looked at him for some form of guidance, without really asking for it. Danny was a complex character, but he’d known that beforehand, as well. Maybe he was just annoyed at himself, because obviously he’d ignored some of the facts? The thought was uncomfortable. Was there anything else he’d missed? On the other hand, Danny’s thoughts on this problem were surprisingly simple. He wanted to do what was right, and Mac hated having to disappoint him.

“Unfortunately, not much. NYPD has decided to release a few Inferiors into the care of private keepers, and Don is one of them. There have already been several offers for him. He’s a good cop, and he comes from a good Family.”

Danny chewed his lip. “How much do they want for him?” he asked quietly.

“You aren’t my Companion yet and you already start looking for distraction?” Mac teased.

“No! Of course not!” Danny hastily assured. “It’s not that.” He sighed.

“Danny,” Mac said softly. “Even if you had the money, which you don’t –“

“ – they would see my name and get the hell outta there,” Danny sighed. “I just wish there was something I could do.” He looked up again, eyes filled with anguish. “I really want to be your Companion, Mac. I told you I love you. I meant it. But I can’t stop thinking about Don. Do you know what I did right after accepting your offer?”

Mac shrugged. “Of course I know,” he said gently. “It’s all right.”

“It is?” Danny clearly didn’t believe him.

“Danny.”

Danny sighed and pulled his hands back. For a moment, he just fidgeted, and then he took off his glasses and began to polish them on the sleeve of his shirt. “You should take your offer back, Mac. You deserve so much better than me.”

There was only one possible answer, and he didn’t even have to think about that. He had thought long enough about this, when he’d hired Danny, and when he’d made his offer. He had resigned himself to be Danny’s keeper forever, his friend, and he had told himself firmly that it was enough. He had told himself that he didn’t mind, and for a while, it worked, and then the numbness about Claire’s death had dulled everything he felt, including his attraction and growing love for Danny. And now, that Danny had agreed to be his, and had assured Mac that he really wanted it, there was no way that he would let him go. He hadn’t listened to the people who had told him not to hire Danny before, and he wouldn’t listen to them now.

“No,” he said calmly and captured Danny’s hands in his again. “I love you. I’m not letting you go.”

Danny’s eyes lit up for a moment before his shoulders slumped again. “And what about Don?”

He shook his head before Mac could even open his mouth to answer. “I know you can’t do anything. But it’s still unfair.” He sighed. “And it’s your birthday, and I’m making everything worse. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay,” Mac agreed, and they sat in silence for a long time, only interrupted by the arrival of their food. Eventually, they started talking about work, and Danny relaxed gradually until he reached over the table and squeezed Mac’s hand briefly. “I really want to kiss you now.”

Mac raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you do it, then?”

Danny hesitated for a second, but then he leaned in and pressed his lips to Mac’s. Mac’s hand came up and tangled in his hair to hold him in place as he took control of their kiss and deepened it.

When they both pulled back, Danny’s eyes were glazed over. “We should have the ceremony at the lab,” he said breathlessly and lifted a shaky hand to wipe it over his mouth.

“What? Why?” Mac asked and unsuccessfully tried to straighten the folds of his clothes where Danny had clutched the fabric in his fists.

“You made your offer there,” Danny answered. “Our relationship started there, when you offered me a job. Admit it, Mac, it’s perfect.” He shrugged. “And that way, you won’t run off on a case in the middle of it.”

Mac couldn’t help it. He started to laugh. And he laughed even harder when Danny’s cell phone rang and Danny quickly left because Stella had the warrant.

 

**

“Are you sure that you should be here?” Stella raised an eyebrow at her co-worker. Danny shrugged and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Why not?”

“You’re still on sick leave,” Stella reminded him with a smile. It seemed as if Danny and Mac were more alike than both men realized, at least when it came to work.

“Yeah yeah, but I’m already here, and I know the case,” Danny absent-mindedly replied and shot her a smile of his own. “Besides, it’s only a few more days I have left, and I don’t think they would make much of a difference.”

Stella didn’t comment on this. She chose to concentrate on the case instead and turned towards the apartment door. “Ready?”

Both Flack and Danny nodded silently, and she raised her hand to knock on the dark wood.

 

Paul Becker was a small man with nervous eyes and pearly gray wings. Danny and Stella spread out to collect their evidence, while Flack escorted Becker outside, to make sure that the scene wasn’t compromised.

It was Stella who finally found the bloody knife, wrapped in a blood-strained t-shirt.

“Flack!” she called out, and Don nodded affirmatively and pulled his handcuffs out. “Turn around,” he commanded.

Paul did a half-turn, but suddenly, he spread out the sharp edge of a wing and whirled in the other direction.

For someone less attentive that move could have been near fatal, or at least very painful. The bones in the wings were light, but extremely strong, and they could cause a lot of harm. Everyone knew that.

Flack hadn’t anticipated the move, but he was used to abrupt moves – Danny was an exuberant person, and sometimes he simply forgot that he had wings now. After several bruises Don had learned to trust his instincts and quickly move out of the way of any wings coming towards him.

The sharp bone only grazed along his arm, pushing him out-of-balance and making him stumble to his knees. He tasted the coppery tang of blood on his tongue as his teeth cut into his lip, and a small, analytical part of his brain noticed the spreading numbness in his arm.

He didn’t waste time on cataloguing the few bruises Paul had probably caused.

His fall had given Paul the precious seconds he needed, and, thinking he could take advantage of the Inferior’s lack of wings, he took off towards the roof.

Flack shouted a warning to the CSIs before following the fugitive up the stairs.

Up and up it went, their breath coming in short gasps after just a few floors. Flack was always close on Paul’s heels; close enough to rip out a few feathers, but never close enough to trip him or stop him, until they were on the roof, where Flack finally threw himself forwards and tackled Paul to the ground.

Together they rolled towards the edge of the building, and neither cared for the sickening crunch of bones on bones in the heat of their fight, or the scratch of fingernails over Flack’s face, until Don managed to overwhelm Paul and cuff him roughly.

“You are under arrest for the murder of Ellie Peterson and Alexander Hollis, and don’t try something like that again,” he panted and pulled Paul around to get him away from the edge of the roof.

He realized that it had been a mistake when Becker gave a yell of rage and threw himself at Flack, toppling both of them over the edge, not noticing or not caring about his obviously broken wing. Don stopped caring about Paul the second he lost contact with the roof and found himself in free fall. He tried to hold on to something, to prevent it from happening, but his numb arm was unable to do so, and his scrabbling fingers slipped off before he could pull himself back up to the roof.

He knew there was nothing he could do. He was falling like a rock; and he expected every second to crash into the building and break some bones. Maybe he would be dead even before he hit the ground.

And yet – he forced his eyes open against the biting wind that playfully tugged at him, inviting him to spread wings he didn’t have and fly, simply letting himself be carried away. But this was not a dream, and he was fully aware of that. Cold fear gathered at the pit of his stomach as the side of the building raced along his side, at the corner of his eye.

He spent a few precious seconds thinking about Danny and Mac. He had seen what happened to bodies that fell from that height. There was not a chance in hell for him to survive this, and he knew it.

The ground came quickly closer, reminding him of that dream again, and of flying. How ironic that he should die like this, flying for one last time.

It had all happened so fast. But wasn’t that the best way to do it – live fast – die young? Only, he didn’t want to die just yet...


	14. Chapter 14

The wind swallowed his shout of surprise when suddenly, gravity turned around again, and he wasn’t falling anymore. Belatedly he noticed the sharp pain in his shoulder, and that he’d pressed his eyes tightly shut.

He opened them again and blinked against the tears and the sting of wind, only to see something he’d never expected:

Danny.

Powerful wings twitched frantically, and they still were getting closer to the ground, but at a more sedated pace; one that didn’t mean immanent death and brains splattered over the pavement.

He saw Danny’s grimace of pain in every detail, and when he was already sure that Danny wasn’t strong enough to hold them both airborne, and stubbornness wasn’t going to save them, not this time – they tumbled down and touched the pavement.

Slowly, gradually, he became aware of the things around him: Squad cars, staring people, hushed whispering, Stella dropping in a crouch next to them, breathing heavily, her wings spread wide, her face a mask of fury and of worry, already snapping orders into her cell phone. Danny had fallen half on top of him. He was breathing in short, pain filled gasps, his wings rippling and twitching unnaturally.

Don opened his mouth to say something, but the wind had stolen his voice, and the words just didn’t want to come.

The wind also had stolen his strength; he just barely managed to lift his left hand and settle it on Danny’s back, at the point where the wings protruded from his body. The accidental brush against the feathers made Danny moan.

Only now did he notice the throbbing in his arm and shoulder, battling the numbness, in perfect synchronization with his still frantic heartbeat.

Danny had grabbed his arm, he remembered – he thought he remembered. It all had been so quick, so surreal…like this dream. However, there was a difference, and he could easily see it where it was glinting in the sun: peeking out of his pushed up sleeve, his bracelet.

This was the reality; not a dream.

“Don!” Slender hands pulled at him; pulled him away from Danny, forced him to look up into Stella’s concerned face. “Deep breaths,” she advised. “Are you okay?”

He did his best to follow her orders, even if he barely understood them over the rush of his own blood in his ears. He heard himself, from far away, reassuring her that he was okay in a hoarse voice that he barely recognized as his own, “just a little shaken up” and asking her about Danny and Becker, while on the inside, he still felt the rush of wind on his face, the speed of the fall in his bones, and a deep trembling that just didn’t stop.

“Come on,” Stella said. “Let the paramedics check up on you two.”

He nodded, but his legs refused to obey his commands to move, and when he wanted to pull farther away from Danny, the move jarred pulled muscles and sent a hot spike of pain through his shoulder.

“Give me a minute,” he gritted out, “What’s happening with Becker?”

“Don’t worry about him, we’ll find him,” Stella reassured him, again, and waved at someone out of his field of vision. “You and Danny, you go to the hospital, I’ll take care of the rest.”

And that stopped every argument, because it was Stella, and when she had that look of determination on her face, it was best to do what she wanted to be done – Stella might have some problems in her personal life, but she didn’t make mistakes concerning cases.

One thing was for sure:

Becker would pay for this.

 

**

 

“Attempted murder of an Inferior,” Stella sighed. “Plus the Murder One Charges for Ellie Peterson and Alexander Hollis.”

Mac nodded and opened his mouth to comment when Hawkes stuck his head in, holding up a tape. “I have the video from the fall,” he said. “I haven’t seen it yet, I thought you wanted…” he trailed off at the look Mac shot his way.

Stella forced a smile on her face and plucked the tape out of his fingers. “Let’s see if we can use it as evidence. Flack said Becker pushed him off the roof, Becker said he didn’t.”

Mac hesitated for a moment, but the tape was evidence. And he could hardly say that the thought alone that something might have happened to Danny and Don let his breath catch and his heart stutter, even if he knew that both men were alive.

It was a normal reaction, he told himself. He still was responsible for both of them; it was that and nothing else. It would get easier once at least Don was removed from his care, because then he could stop caring about him. Danny, on the other hand, would stay with him, and Mac knew that he couldn’t keep the younger man at home. Danny wouldn’t understand, even worse, he probably wouldn’t survive without something to do. He would die of boredom. Besides, Danny was a good CSI, and Mac needed him at the lab. And Danny loved fieldwork, he would not accept to stay at the lab. Mac closed his eyes for a second. It would get better with time, and he would stop worrying so much about Danny…

…he just had to tell himself that often enough and it would probably become the truth. He just had to convince himself.

“Mac?” Stella asked and raised an eyebrow when he didn’t move to join them. “You with us?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Just…give me a moment to finish this.” He nodded towards the file on his desk, a file he’d signed only minutes ago, but thankfully Stella didn’t comment. She just grinned at Hawkes and followed him to the AV lab.

Mac didn’t move. He just stared at his hands on top of his desk, taking in the fine lines, the few dark hairs and the veins on the back of his hands, the short-clipped nails – in every detail.

This couldn’t happen, he told himself firmly. He wasn’t supposed to fall for Don, or Danny, or, even worse, both of them. He still could hear Claire’s voice in his head, teasing him about his refusal to take a Companion, and offering to pick one for him. After all, she had reasoned, a Companion was a sign of status, not only for him, but for her too. They had discussed it, and then Danny had appeared in his life, and his resistance had melted. And then Claire had died, and everything changed.

Or did it? Mac wasn’t so sure about that anymore. Of course, the most important person in his life had been Claire, and she wasn’t there anymore. But he had Danny now.

“Mac, did you fall asleep with your eyes open?” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Mac blinked and looked up at Lindsay, who cradled her injured arm protectively against her body. She was cleared for duty, Mac knew, and he was glad about that – the three weeks where he’d been not only one, but two CSIs short had been hell on all of them.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked automatically.

Lindsay shrugged carefully. “Stella sends me. She says you said you were coming?”

Mac swallowed, but, he told himself firmly, the tape was evidence, it was his duty to watch it.

“Yes,” he said and slowly got up. It was his duty, but he didn’t have to like it. He shook his head slightly. He had to do something about this situation, or he wouldn’t be able to work with Danny or Don anymore.

He followed Lindsay to the AV lab, where the rest of his team already was. Don’s right arm was in a sling, and Danny’s wings drooped to the point where the tips touched the floor, and when he moved them, he did it with deliberate, small movements, but as soon as he saw Mac, a smile spread over his face.

“Movie night,” Stella said with a twist of her mouth. “Let’s check if this is of any use.”

The angle of the camera was a bit screwed, but it was still very clear what had happened: Don tackled Becker to the ground, and when he pulled him up to his feet again, Becker’s hands were cuffed.

Then Danny burst out on the roof, weapon drawn and trained on their suspect, Becker, who whirled around and toppled both him and Don over the edge of the roof. Wings spread awkwardly – one of them seemed broken after the fight with Don – he managed to stop his fall and glide through the air to land on another roof and run off.

Don, on the other hand, didn't have the advantage of wings, and he fell like a rock, downwards, straight towards the ground. And so was Danny, who, without hesitating, had dropped his weapon and dove right after Don, wings pressed tightly to his own body, arms stretched out.

"It's a bird, it's a plane, it's SuperDanny," Stella said with a small laugh of disbelief as they watched how Danny’s outstretched hands closed tightly around the closest part of Don's body, his right arm, and how he spread his wings in a desperate attempt to stop their fall, changing it into a half-glide, only supported by Danny's spread wings, and how they finally reached the ground and landed in a trembling heap of limbs.

Hawkes stopped the tape.

It was quiet in the lab for a moment, and then Stella exhaled.

“Wow.”

Mac didn't react. What he'd just seen - he'd come really close to losing them both. The thought alone rendered him speechless. It wrapped itself around his stomach and his throat and squeezed, it pressed thin, spider-like fingers into his body.

He couldn't breathe.

"Impressive," Hawkes said. "I'd never thought..." He stopped and shook his head. They all couldn't believe that Danny's wings really had held both men.

Danny chuckled embarrassedly. "Didn't rip off those," he said and pointed over his shoulder. "Just sprained them. Didn't even need a lot of new stitches for my cuts." He smirked at them.

"You dislocated Flack's arm," Stella pointed out.

“Yeah.” Danny shrugged – and grimaced. “But that’s not that bad, right, Flack?”

Don only gave him a short look. “You’re going to pack my stuff for me,” he informed Danny with a small smile.

“Pack your stuff? What for?” Lindsay asked and looked from one man to the other. “Did I miss something?”

Don shook his head slightly. “Nothing big,” he said dismissively. “Just a change in keepers, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Stella looked at him. “And when were you planning on telling us?”

“He didn’t,” Mac said with a chuckle. “He didn’t plan on telling me either. Luckily I was informed by the officials.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Don quickly said. “Really.”

“Good,” Danny said, although his eyes told everyone that it wasn’t, and moved until he stood next to Mac. “Mac wants to say something.”

“What?” Mac raised an eyebrow. “What did I want to say?”

Danny didn’t pay any attention to him. “We’ve talked about this, and most of you already know,” he said and grinned. “And Mac wants to invite everyone to attend our Ceremony in two weeks. Here at the lab.”

“Ceremony?” Stella was the first to ask. “At the lab?” Her eyebrow rose again. “When did you decide that?”

“And isn’t two weeks a bit of a short notice?” Lindsay added.

Danny shrugged. “It’s not a marriage, Montana, only a Companionship. It’s a formless…thing.”

“You’re going to wear your lab coats, and one of you is going to run off in the middle of it to finish some tests, right?” Stella guessed.

Mac laughed. “I hope not,” he said. “And I already put in the paperwork – in two weeks, it should’ve come through.”

“When did you decide to have it in the lab?” Stella repeated her earlier question. There was no doubt in her mind that the lab was the perfect place for those two men to have this Ceremony, but it still was somewhat of a shock to actually hear it.

“Before we left to arrest Becker,” Danny answered, and they fell silent again.

“What’s happening with Becker now?” Lindsay finally asked.

Stella shook her head. “We caught him when he tried to leave the city,” she said, and for a moment, her eyes gleamed with something Mac didn’t want to know too intimately. “The evidence is conclusive. He pushed Flack. And he killed Ellie Peterson and Alexander Hollis. We don’t need his confession.”

Danny grinned and bounced a little on his heels. “Case closed?” he asked, and Stella nodded.

“Case closed,” she agreed.


	15. Epilogue

“Detective Flack.”

The woman folded her mousy gray wings carefully behind her back and pointed to the chair in front of her desk. “Take a seat, please. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Don did what he was told and waited patiently for her to speak, pressing the arm in the sling close to his body and clasping his other hand tightly over his thigh, to stop himself from fidgeting. There was nothing to fear.

The woman – the sign read ‘M. Carlitas’ – finally closed the folder she had been working on and gave him a smile.

“Now, have you ever been in private hands?” she asked, and although he knew that it was a rhetoric question, he answered.

“Not really. My parents took me in for a few months, but I was already with the NYPD.”

She nodded, opened another folder and leafed through the contents. “I see. You left your father’s care and spent the next four years with some very respectable officers of the PD before you came into Detective Taylor’s care almost three years ago.”

Don nodded. It was nothing new to him. It was his life, after all. And so far, he thought, it had been a good life – all his keepers had been good men, good officers and eventually, even friends.

“A few things will change for you once you’re given in private care. You will get a new ID-bracelet. Your keeper is responsible for your physical and psychical well-being, just as the NYPD was until now. If there is any problem, you shouldn’t hesitate talking to your keeper first before filing a complaint with us.”

She sounded as if she had given the same speech a few times already. Don just nodded – there was nothing else he could do. Even if he protested, it wouldn’t help his situation. He trusted that they had found someone who wouldn’t try to interfere with his life too much.

“I don’t expect any trouble. The evaluations all praise your ability to adapt quickly to new situations,” Mrs. Carlitas concluded. “Of course there’s the question of your further occupation. I’ve spoken to the keeper we’ve chosen for you, and he has expressed a keen interest on this subject.”

Don nodded again. He couldn’t fight off the sudden feeling of doom that overcame him. He wanted to stay where he was, a cop, and he feared that his new keeper had other plans for him. He couldn’t help but think of Ellie Peterson. This was one of his greatest fears. He never could fight off a Normal – especially not if it was his keeper. He thought back to the time he’d spent with Mac. Mac had talked to him about what he’d wanted to do, and then he’d done everything he could to make sure that his life could go on as uninterrupted as possible. Mac was a good keeper. Don bit his lip slightly. At the moment, while he was sitting here, and learned about his future, Mac and Danny were at the lab, completing their ceremony. By the time Don knew where he would spend what was maybe the rest of his life, Danny would be Mac’s Companion.

“As for your personal life – well, some people report that they experienced more freedom once they’ve been given into private care. For others, it was more restrictive. You have to work out the details with your keeper. If you cannot manage to reach an understanding, you are, of course, free to leave, but if you decide to do so, you have to report it to us, so we can investigate.”

Don nodded again. He knew that. Danny had told him about it, and he had forced Don to promise to call him if anything was wrong. He didn’t plan on calling Danny. Danny had other things to think of now. He would forget him soon.

Ruthlessly he turned away from any thoughts of Danny. He would probably never see him again. Danny was a respectable Companion to Mac now, something he had dreamed of for as long as Don knew him.

He was happy for his friend.

Mrs. Carlitas gave him another smile. “Are you ready to meet your new family now?”

His lips twitched. “I get a family?”

“We’ve chosen someone for you who has expressed a keen interest in you. He mentioned in his interview that he needs someone to keep his young Companion out of trouble, and you fit the description perfectly.”

Don nodded and bit his lip. He tried not to think of Mac and Danny, who were probably performing the final Bonding Ceremony right now. He regretted that he couldn’t be part of it, but maybe it was better this way. He wasn’t sure he could watch as Mac claimed Danny as his.

“Mr. Flack.” She stood up and shook her wings slightly. “Sign here and here, please.”

She pointed to the dotted lines on the paperwork and Don scrawled his name on them. He saw that Mac had already signed the release papers, but not his new keeper. It was slightly unsettling.

She took off his ID-bracelet, careful because of his injury, pushed the papers in a thick manila envelope and stood up. “If you’d follow me, then.”

“Thanks,” he said and rubbed his sweat-slicked palm of his left hand against his pants before following her into another office. He felt naked without the bracelet around his wrist.

“Wait here,” she instructed and entered another room. Don caught a glimpse of Mac and Danny, sitting in front of another desk, both dressed in formal clothes. Danny’s wings fluttered slightly, and Don was sure, would Danny be on his two feet, he would bounce. Then the door closed behind Mrs. Carlitas and he was left alone with his racing heartbeat and his thoughts.

He briefly wondered what those two were doing here, before forcing his thoughts in another direction. Mac and Danny - they were his past. He needed to look forwards now, into his future, and stop thinking about them. Life had to go on.

 

“Detective Taylor.”

Mac looked up at the petite woman and squeezed Danny’s knee reassuringly. She smiled at them. “Congratulations, Mac.”

“Thank you, Molly.” He couldn’t help but smile at his nervous Companion. Danny didn’t know yet why they were here, and if he wasn’t mistaken, neither did the rest of his team. “Is the paperwork ready?”

“For you, always,” she held up the envelope she was holding. “Everything is in here, including the mandatory instructions. I don’t think you’ll need them, though.”

Mac nodded. “Thank you. It’s the first one for Danny, he might appreciate them.”

Danny frowned. “What?”

“It’s an expensive present for a Companion,” she remarked and handed over the paperwork and a pen. “Sign here, please. And Detective Messer, sign here.”

Danny opened his mouth to protest, but Mac gave him a quick glance. “Trust me,” he said quietly and handed over the pen. “You’ll love it.”

“You bought me a pet?” Danny’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You know that I don’t have time for some pretty kid.”

“He requested to be kept in his current position,” the woman piped up. “And I can assure you that he won’t need much attention. He adjusts easily.”

Danny turned towards Mac and narrowed his eyes. “I can’t take care of someone else,” he whispered. The words ‘I can barely take care of myself’ hung unsaid in the air between them. “Don’t let me…” he swallowed. “Don’t let me fuck this up,” he then said with the kind of brutal honesty he sometimes displayed.

“That’s why I picked a special one for you, Danny,” Mac smiled reassuringly. “Do you trust me?”

Danny opened his mouth, closed it again, shook his head, took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and put his glasses back on to sign the papers. “You know I do.”

Mac pulled something out of his pocket and nodded. “We’re ready then,” he said and gave Danny’s knee another squeeze.

“He’s waiting.”

She got up and opened the door.

“Mr. Flack?”

 

Danny blinked and turned towards Mac.

“What’s going on?” he hissed.

“I told you I got you a present you would appreciate,” Mac said and folded Danny’s fingers around the object he had pulled out of his pocket. “He’s yours.”

“Mine?” Danny repeated and turned his head to watch Don enter and the woman leave to give them some privacy.

“Molly informed me that he was on the list of those who would be given into private care,” Mac said simply. “I collected some favors. And here he is.” He smiled at Don who looked at him with an expression between surprise, pain, and joy. “It’s perfect. He’s yours. You can do with him whatever you want – but at the same time, I know that you won’t.” He smiled softly. “He would kick your ass.”

“And you couldn’t have told any of us?” Danny demanded to know, but he bowed his head down to look at the object in his hand. A bracelet.

“It was a surprise.” Mac shrugged. “Don’t you like it?”

“Are you crazy?” Danny looked at him with a wide smile. “I love him!” He leaned over to kiss Mac briefly before getting up and pulling Don in a tight hug.

Don yelped in pain, and when Danny adjusted his hug, he wrapped his arm around him and stroked gently along the edge of a wing. “Messer.”

Danny took a step back and took Don’s right hand. “You’re mine,” he said quietly. “That okay with you?”

Don chuckled. “It was never different.” He managed to pull back the sleeve of his shirt, baring his wrist to his friend. His keeper.

Danny fastened the bracelet around his wrist before smirking.

“And I’m never letting you go now, Flack.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” Don agreed and looked up at Mac.

“I couldn’t do this for the last few years,” Mac said and cupped his face gently. “But I can now – and you can hit me now, if you want.” He leaned slowly closer, giving Don the time to pull back, as if Don would –

And he kissed him deeply, while wrapping an arm around Danny and pulling him close, as well. He wrapped his wings around them, protecting them from the world.

Mac knew that there would be dangers in their future. He couldn't keep it away from his Companion, or from Don. He knew he had to accept it - just as much as Danny and Don had to accept that Mac could get in dangerous situations. They were cops, all of them, and they all didn't want it any other way. He just had to learn to live with the constant fear.

He didn't know yet how to do it, but he promised himself that he would find a way. There always was a way. For the moment, however, he just enjoyed the feeling of two warm, pliant bodies pressed against him.

 

Don smiled against Mac’s lips. Danny was still holding his hand, and the comfortable weight of a bracelet around his wrist reassured him that he was where he belonged.

With Mac and Danny.

And he realized that, as long as he had them, he didn’t need wings to fly.

 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many thanks for all the people who helped with this thing! <3


End file.
